


Friday Night Prompts

by twistedingenue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies), Young Avengers
Genre: Awkwardness, Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Darcy likes HGTV okay?, F/M, Gen, Other, Rescue, Role Reversal, Tumblr, falling asleep, innuendo is the best I can do sometimes, okay that ot3 bromance became romance, the ot3 bromance that snuck up on me, what happens in dubai stays in dubai, when in doubt tie them up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 211
Words: 76,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedingenue/pseuds/twistedingenue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tumblr prompt box is always open, but on Fridays, it's a free-for-all. Collected works, mostly featuring Darcy.</p><p>1/4, new chapters 204-211</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve & Bucky & Darcy/Walk

It’s a dingy, cold day and even if the afternoon sun came out of the clouds, it isn’t going to melt the snow, packed deep by foot traffic. Neither one of them like the cold very much, it settles into them and nothing much warms up old bones.

“Doesn’t Stark have a place someplace warm we can go to?” Bucky says, kicking at a rock left on the sidewalk, “Like, lots of places that are warm? Where the women are still wearing skirts up to here?” he puts a gloved hand against his thigh, and drags it up.

“I’m sure he could find a place for us to go,” Steve laughs, and his breath smokes around his mouth, “Last January, he called me a snowbird, and then asked if I went leaf-peeping too.”

They both hear a crunch in the snow behind them, Bucky tenses but Steve relaxes and just lets the snowball hit him, a second hitting Bucky seconds later.

“But, Bucky, winter does have it’s charms.” Steve says as Darcy runs up to them both, squeezing between them and threading her arms into theirs.

“I had to get out of the labs,” Darcy says, her hair spilling out of her hat and over her shoulders, her cheeks rosy with the chill and exertion, “and I figured, what better way to get out of there than in such esteemed company.”

“You might have a point there, Rogers.”

“Now, if you boys are going to fight over me, you’re both pretty, so I won’t mind, but there’s also a great chocolate store around a few blocks over, and they have white hot chocolate this time of year. Have you guys had fancy hot chocolates yet?”

They let her talk and lead, and let the snow begin to fall lightly.


	2. Darcy & Jane Foster/First Day

Dr Foster doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. She’s not even looking at Darcy at all, because Dr Foster is underneath a console in what looks to be a heavily modified conversion van circa older than Darcy. The rear hatch is open and Darcy peers through it.

“Excuse me?” Darcy actually tries not to yell, but the address she was given turns out to be an old indoor car dealership with interesting acoustics, so it comes out as a yell and there’s a yelp and thump. Maybe not in that order though, “Dr Foster?”

Dr Foster comes out from underneath the console nursing the top of her forehead, “Oh god, please don’t do that. Yes, who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you in town before.”

“Dr Foster, I’m your intern, we spoke on the phone. You gave me plane tickets, you were supposed to pick me up at the airport five, no wait, six hours ago.”

“That can’t be right, you are supposed to be here until Thursday.” Dr Foster is a perfectly attractive woman, not at all the fringe scientist stereotype that Darcy was expecting, at least in appearance, “Call me Jane.”

“Okay, Jane, it is Thursday —”

“No I distinctly remember it being Tuesday.” Jane is checking out her forehead in the vans mirrors now, groaning just a little.

“How long ago was that?”

“Oh well, I just did that tuneup, and before that I was doing calibrations on the electromagnetic readers, and then I was putting together data….oh, that was awhile ago.”

“Jane, I need you to pay the cab that drove me out here.” Darcy put her hands on Dr Foster’s shoulders, and while the other woman looks wildly at the outstretched arms, it seems to ground and focus her.

“Why?” Confusion comes over Jane’s delicate features.

“Because you haven’t given me a stipend yet, and you forgot to pick me up at the airport six hours ago.”

Her eyes widen, “Oh my god, it’s Thursday already.” Jane books it out the door with an apology to pay the cabdriver.

It’s going to be an interesting internship, that’s for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy’s first day (or one of them) on the job at her internship with Jane?
> 
> [ My tumblr is always open](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr)


	3. Darcy/Bruce, green under the collar

Tony walks into Bruce’s lab to find the little big guy and Darcy staring at each other over a table, “I’m sorry am I interrupting something? Because, yeah, give a me a moment and I’ll start the recording.”

They don’t stop looking at each other. “Not interrupting anything Stark.” Bruce sighs but keeps up the creepy intense gaze.

“Just a staring contest.” Darcy chirps with s smug grin. She props her head up with her hands, elbows on the table.

“Oh, because that makes perfect sense. Two grown adults, engaging in a staring contest when there is work here to do.”

“Bruce was getting a little green under the collar,” Darcy starts and is stopped by Bruce, “I was not!” —“So I decided that this was a good distraction and challenged him.”

“I can think of a lot of other things that would provide a good distraction that you could do Darcy,” Tony says and …well Bruce isn’t turning green, but the back of his neck is turning a rather delicate and lovely shade of pink, “What, a kiss just wouldn’t do?”

Bruce breaks contact and hangs his head.

“Ha! I win!” Darcy yells, standing up, “And Tony, just what do you think started it in the first place?”

There’s really no answer to that, and a quick look to Bruce and his absolutely pink and red face says, “Okay, yeah, leaving now. Have fun kids!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: kdsfasdlfa Can you write something Darcy/Bruce? Pleaaaassseeeeeeeeeeeeee
> 
>  
> 
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	4. Darcy & Bucky & Steve/tinfoil arms

It’s probably the third “Sexy Captain America” costume-clad woman that gets Steve’s full-body blush going; Bucky just tracks her movements as she passes them by. It’s not too cold for once the weekend before Halloween, Darcy remembers choosing costumes that would fit over snowsuits and boots, and in college the parade of creative costuming that mostly came out of her closet and her rockabilly roommate, taking advantage of warmer Virginia autumns.

“She’s going to freeze in that later tonight walking home.” Steve finally says.

“I’m not sure she means to be walk home tonight,” Bucky replies, a smile slowly spreading across his face as he watches Steve parse his sentence. Darcy laughs and picks at her salad.

“I think it’s fetching,” she says, “When do you get to wear the short skirt, Steve? You’ve got the legs for it.”

“How does my uniform translate into…that?” Steve says as another girl, this one wearing a clearly store-bought costume, midriff bare, short skirts and spats with a plastic shield.

“I know, that cheesy poly-satin is just bad. It offers no protection at all, not even from the cold.” Darcy riffs, “and yet, it still makes you sweat and chafe. It’s just awful.”

“Also, how did she get those spats to stay on her stilettos?” Bucky adds.

“I could totally make a Bucky costume,” Darcy says wickedly, “Wrap some tin foil around my arm and you’d never know the difference.”

“Would it be a sexy Bucky costume?” Steve laughs. He can trip over his tongue only for so long before it loosens and his off-kilter, slightly dry and dirty humor comes out.

“I could make it that way.” she eyes Bucky over, pursing her lips, “Raid my closet later, Buck-o?”

“Anything inspired by me is going to be a Sexy Bucky costume.” he grins and winks, ” And oh yeah, Lewis, that sounds like a plan."

And that’s the story of how Darcy ends up dressing in a very abbreviated uniform with strips of tin foil around her arm at Stark’s party on Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The Steve, Bucky and Darcy friendship scene you wrote the other day was so adorable, I’d love to see more of those three (or any two of them). Prompts could include: rain, strawberries, tv, halloween or none of those :)
> 
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	5. Darcy/Clint,  hope chest

Darcy’s had her grandmothers hope chest since she was fifteen and while she didn’t carry it with while was in the dorms or to New Mexico, its gone with her ever since, from her senior year apartment to her closet sized bedroom in New York. It takes up half the free space, but hey, it’s important.

“It is miserable outside.” Clint says, closing the door behind him, “Started raining halfway here. What….no, why are you halfway inside of the trunk?”

Darcy lifts her head out, “Looking for something.” she says before diving back in.

“Master of the obvious, and that’s a lovely view right now.”

Darcy pulls out a quilt, throwing it over her head and wrapping it around herself, “This. Grandma made it for my first adult bed, and I’ve kept it ever since just for miserable days like this.” her voice is muffled by the fabric, “It’s made with both of my parents old clothes, along with some of my own. It’s the softest, most comfortable thing in the world.”

Clint pulls the quilt away from her face, kisses her forehead, before she closes the chest, climbs over it, still mostly wrapped in the blanket and falls over onto the bed. While she rearranges the bulk, spreading it out and sits up against the headboard and holds her hand out. Clint settles against her, reveling in the rare silence, save for the falling rain against the window and their heartbeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: you pick the character/pairing: the most perfect way to spend a cool, rainy fall day.
> 
> [](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com>%20My%20tumblr</a>)


	6. Darcy/Bruce, Secondhand Embaressment

“I think I’m having second hand embarrassment.” Darcy says, trying to hide behind her coffee cup, her extra whipped cream toppling over and hitting her forehead.

Bruce hands her a napkin, “I don’t really think he’s that bad of a singer, really.”

“Oh not him, he’s fine. He’s really rocking I Will Always Love You. Amazing falsetto. It’s her. Look at her. She hates this, but she really likes him.” she sips her coffee while wiping the cream off her head, then dropping the napkin in front of her.

“I thought girls, excuse me, women,” Bruce amends quickly, “Like that whole romantic in public thing.”

“Really depends on the woman, I think. But look at her, look at that smile, so tight around the eyes. She’s putting on a great face for now and when they get back in private he is going to get such a panic attack about it. He’s never going to do anything so public again.”

“And what about you?” Bruce asks, his hand reaching out for her free one, “What’s the right level for you?”

“First date aside? I only get secondhand embarrassed. Do your worst, doc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: YAY! More people taking prompts! And cheesy movies FTW! Prompt: Bruce/Darcy, serenade
> 
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	7. Basic Bitches, unplanned complications

“So, uh, Darcy, when you said that I should come with you for a weekend home, I didn’t exactly think…” Charlie says fidgeting nervously in the passenger seat of Darcy’s junker, “I didn’t think we’d be….Darcy what are we doing?”

“Stealing baby Jesuses.” Darcy tilts her head to the side, and reaches out to the vents, “Is that how you’d make it plural? Damn, I think the heats out on this thing again. I should really tell mom to just junk it.”

“But then,” Charlie deadpans, “How would we steal baby jesus?”

“Jesuses. Jesii?” She says back, “There’s multiple of them. Anyways, it’s simple, we drive around, find the most obnoxious manger displays and kidnap our blessed Lord.”

“Kidnap?”

“I’m going to give them back at Easter.”

Charlie looks at Darcy with a look of resigned compliance, “Why do I do anything with you? It only leads to trouble.”

“That’s the spirit!” She grins, “Now, when I find a suitable one, I’m going to need to you tuck and roll out of the car…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy/Surprise me!, unplanned complications
> 
> A real surprise: this fits somewhere into Basic Bitches universe, and really, Darcy is a complication to Charlie. He should know better <3
> 
> My Tumblr


	8. Darcy/Clint, stucco

“I thought SHIELD paid you more.” Darcy says, staring at the first apartment the leasing agent showed them, “Because honestly, if they are going to move you out to LA and make you train up a whole bunch of nutjobs…”

“No, sweetheart, the nutjobs were the group in Milwaukee. We are staying far, oh very far away from the woman with the special connection to squirrels.” Clint replies, putting a hand to the stucco wall of the bedroom. Bits crumble underneath his fingers and he wipes them away.

“This place is a no,” Darcy calls out to the nervous woman showing them the apartment, “Can we like, up the rent a whole category, or is the next place a murder house too? I will put my salary in with yours, babe, we do not have to live like this.”

“You know, I’ve lived in worse. It’s only because we are moving from a mansion that this looks so bad, I think”

“You think SHIELD hasn’t heard of the term Cost of Living? They should be factoring that into the pay if they are going to move you here to create another response team.”

Clint rubs his hand across the wall, gathering the plaster, and throws it at Darcy. He never misses and even covered in cheap interior decorating materials, Darcy can still raise her eyebrows and make him laugh, “Yeah, let’s see the next place. A little more upmarket, if you will, ma’am. This place wouldn’t have a wall left after a month.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy x clint, stucco
> 
> [](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com>%20My%20tumblr</a>)


	9. Darcy & Bucky & Steve, Heatwave

“We’re having a heat wave, a tropical heat wave, the temperature’s rising, it isn’t surprising, she certainly can, can can.” Bucky sings from the couch, his hands conducting in the air. It’s the only thing that Darcy can see from her vantage point, lying on her back on the kitchen floor, the linoleum only slightly cooler than any other spot in the house they’ve had to hole up in for the night.

“I hate you. Why is it so hot?” Darcy whines, “If I take off any more layers, I’m going to be naked.” For all that she’s in a tank and impossibly tiny shorts, it’s still too hot to move or sleep.

“Not objecting!” Bucky calls out.

“Fuck off!” Darcy returns cheerfully, “We don’t want to scare Steve.”

“Steve is sleeping, he will not mind.”

“Steve is not sleeping,” Steve says, “Steve is remembering the rest of the words to that song. Why are you both still up, it’s turning more into early rather than late.”

“It’s too hot to sleep.” Darcy whines again, drawing out the vowels, “I would like to sleep, but it’s hot. Why is there no air conditioning?”

Steve picks her up off the floor, “Kid, I’m going to introduce you to a miracle.”

Bucky perks up, follows Steve and Darcy through the house, singing the whole time. Steve leads them to a screened off room with a bare mattress on the floor, light cotton sheets, and unceremoniously dumps Darcy on the mattress.

“Okay, how is it practically outside and cooler out here?”

“It’s a sleeping porch.” Steve says, “Lots of places had them before the wonder and glory of central air.”

“One in our old building when we were kids,” Bucky adds, “You’d have thirty kids all clamoring to sleep in it on bad nights, and it wasn’t nearly as nice as this, but it was better than anything else we had.”

Darcy yawns, curls face first into the mattress, ultimately using her arms as a pillow “I’mma sleep now.” Bucky and Steve each take a corner, resting their heads on the mattress, their bodies against the ground.

Buck still sings softly, “Gee, her anatomy makes the mercury jump up to ninety three, yes sir!”

“Still hate you.” Darcy mumbles into the mattress, “But thanks for the compliment all the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: I’m never gonna stop asking for more Steve/Bucky/Darcy bromance (or romance!) ‘cause you write them so well! Prompts could include a really hot day, icecream or paintball.
> 
> Will you take a really hot night, Irving Berlin, and random design knowledge?
> 
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	10. Clint/Natasha, I'm not saying it was aliens

“Being tied to each other should be more fun,” Clint says, “Nat, why isn’t this more fun?”

“Because usually, one of us isn’t tied up.” She sighs, “I think that’s going to be me in a moment. The rope has a weak spot here.” Natasha is quietly, because she can do anything quietly, dragging the rope across her boot.

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room here?” He questions, wondering just why the….elephants in the room tied hands together and then tied them back to back, a rope around their waists.

“No.”

“I’m just saying, eventually we are going to have to talk about the fact that these guys, are not like, guys. They aren’t human.” He feels Natasha free her hands, and it’s quicker work to get the rope around their stomachs off, “They are ali—”

“No.” She shushes him.

“We know aliens, we like aliens.”

“We like Thor. The rest that I’ve met, I do not care for very much.” she says, not looking at him as she unties his hands, “So as far I am concerned, it is not an alien, just a very ugly and deformed…thing.”

“Whatever floats your boat. Let’s get out of here before it…takes off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I approve of this plan!! Clint/Natasha, ALIENS! (I’m not saying it was aliens, but it was aliens.)
> 
> You can prompt too [ at my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	11. Darcy/Clint, cooking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the events of [come on sweet catastrophe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/485163/chapters/844816)

“I don’t know, it’s some Russian National and her protection.” Ramirez says, “Hey Lewis, I think the attachment coming in today is part of SHIELD, new task force.”

It’s probably the worst kept secret in the entire diplomatic service that Darcy Lewis is seeing someone in SHIELD, and that she’s unusually attached to them often.

“Well, that does happen from time to time.” Darcy says, “But we’re actually pretty quiet here in Dubai for once. Any thoughts.”

“Yeah, it’s your turn to make dinner,” Ramirez clasps a member of his staff on the shoulder, “There’s eight of us in tonight.”

“Make it ten,” a familiar voice says walking in, “We made it in early. Nothing cements inter-department relations like a home-cooked meal.”

“Home-cooked?” Darcy teases, “You put a lot of faith in my ability to open cans into pots.”

“You the guy from SHIELD?” Ramirez puts out his hand, “Tomas Ramirez,”

“Yeah, that’s me, scouting ahead of the rest of the detail, Clint Barton.” He says, shaking his hand while Darcy smiles, grabbing a pot and filling it with water, “You want some help there, Agent?”

Ramirez looks the two of them over, and breathes out in amusement, and leaves with his staff.

“The rest of the detail?” Darcy asks, amused.

“Natasha is a detail in and of herself. What are you making?” Clint asks, moving into the kitchen and opening up cabinets.

“Babe, you know the only cooking I can do is the type where you call and it gets delivered. I have noodles and I have canned sauce. It’s at least not storebought sauce, one of the wives makes it and sends it over, and it’s amazing.”

“So uh, ” Clint looks around and wraps his arms around her and she kisses his neck, “After dinner, wanna work on continent number five?”

“Yeah sure, it’s bound to be warmer than Antarctica.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clint x Darcy cooking 
> 
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	12. Darcy/Clint + Natasha, TV

“This is horrible,” Natasha says, trying to reach for the remote control, but Darcy has years of experience of defending the remote control from a large family and slaps her hand. Natasha looks at her hand and then looks at Darcy, “Interesting,” she says, sitting back.

“This is hardly the worst bit of reality television that we’ve been forced to sit through, Nat,” Clint says, his arm around Darcy’s shoulder, ” A lot worse. This is just House Hunters.”

“It’s fake. Oh so very fake, but….houses.” Darcy says, “big empty houses full of dreams and potential. And sometimes, they go overseas and they have interesting history.”

“Also, if we wait through this, eventually Holmes on Homes comes on and that’s pretty much a competent man yelling at unprofessional people and calling them on their bullshit.”

Natasha leans back, considering this information, “I do enjoy watching other be berated. It is almost as good as doing it myself.”

“Ha, and Darcy wins the remote wars once again,” Darcy grins and tucks her feet under herself, “Now shut up, commercial break is over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clint/Darcy +Natasha TV   
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	13. Darcy/Clint, milkshakes

“So, whenever I landed myself in the hospital as a kid, my mom would always take me out for a milkshake afterwards.” Darcy says from the doorway in medical.

“You were in the hospital that much that it was a regular thing?” Clint says weakly staring straight up at the ceiling.

“I was clumsy and liked to climb trees.” Darcy starts counting off on her fingers, “And I slammed my finger in the car door, I fell off a trampoline - but that one was actually sort of awesome, because even though I didn’t stick the landing, it was totally Olympic level gymnastics for a few seconds.”

Clint has a low chuckle that turns into a groan.

“You shouldn’t do that, you have broken ribs.”

“Thank you doctor Darcy, I couldn’t figure that out on my own.”

“I was thinking then, maybe when you get out of here, I could take you to get a milkshake.” Darcy bites her lip, looking up nervously.

Clint hauls himself up to his elbows to look at her, “I wouldn’t mind a date with a pretty girl. Might just have to check out against medical advice.”

Darcy walks in the rest of the way, takes the seat next to the bed, “Don’t do that just for me bird-brains, milkshakes are for when you are better and not before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clint/Darcy milkshakes or snuggie   
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)
> 
> This is what happens when I have pain fog and can't concentrate on either what I'm supposed to be studying or on what I should be writing. I work on my backlog of prompts.


	14. Darcy/Steve, blue, sleep

Movie nights been over for hours, and most everyone has left the common area, with only the hazy light of a muted news broadcast to fill the room, blue turning into just visible specs of dust. Steve watches the television not paying terribly much attention to the captioning he turned on he’s got other things to occupy his thoughts.

It’s Bruce that walks back in, clearly aiming for tea, and Steve has to admit that Bruce has decided to take his whole situation in stride these days. Only a man who has, what was the phrase used now, lightened up? wears his alter ego on licensed pajama bottoms.

Bruce takes in the tableau before him and remarks, “You ever going to do anything about that?”

And he means the woman that has fallen asleep, head in his lap, and her wavy hair that Steve just can’t stop playing with and petting. Darcy has fallen asleep in the middle the past months worth of movie nights, first just next to him, then against him, then on his shoulder and now, now her head is on his thigh, a hand reached out to the side of the other.

“I don’t want to wake her, I don’t think she sleeps much.” Steve says quietly.

“I don’t just mean about tonight, or any of the other nights that you have stayed here until much too late. She likes you, she’s comfortable enough around you to actually sleep, and if you haven’t noticed, sleep is a little thin on the ground around here. I meant….”

“Yeah, I know, I’m just…” Steve starts, “I don’t know how to start the sentence. Never have.”

“Back before….” Bruce makes a wide sort of hand gesture, “everything? A ‘I think you are cute and would like to get to know you better’ seemed to work just fine.”

Steve smiles, and smiles down at the sleeping figure, “It might be even easier with Darcy. I think she likes straight forward.”

Bruce pours boiling water from kettle to cup, drops a teaball in, “Go get the girl, Steve.”

Steve moves a lock of hair from her face, lets his fingers drag against the side of her cheek, doesn’t miss the way she moves into the touch, “I’m working on it, I’ll get there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Steve x Darcy, blue, sleep :)  
> [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)
> 
> I'm pretty sure this was a lot more fun to write than to discuss the differences in insurance policies. Which is what I should be doing.


	15. Darcy/Clint, moving

“So basically, all you own is a suitcase of clothes, two boxes and about fifteen weapons cases?”

“Seventeen, and the ammunition takes up another box.”

Darcy looks out over her tiny, microliving would an overstatement apartment, all the crap that has built up over the past year that she’s been living in New York and groans, “And Stark gave a budget for furnishings?”

“Yep. Well, actually more like a credit card. Did you know they come in black?” Clint says.

Darcy’s not attached to very much in her studio apartment. Despite how much of it there is, she’s not very sentimental, and has been prone to moving across the country, living in dorms, RVs and for one memorable month, a yurt, so she walks around the room with a single box. As Clint watches, she packs away a yearbook, her diploma, a few framed photographs and art prints. She deposits the box in Clint’s hands.

He laughs when she grabs a trash bag and empties the contents of her dresser into it. Her closet sized studio doesn’t have an actual closet, so she throws the full bag in her rolling wardrobe, wheels it over to the door.

“Alright done.” Darcy smiles brightly, then kisses Clint on the cheek, “Let’s go make some damage to that credit card for the rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Can you do Darcy/Clint moving? I’m moving this weekend and need inspiration
> 
> [ Always taking prompts at my tumblr ](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	16. Darcy/Clint, new

Darcy turns the page when she finally feels the weight of eyes on her body. “It’s new comic book day!” she says brightly, her smile matching her tone.

Clint blinks, “I noticed. You sort of look like what I imagine my awkward nerd high school fantasy would have been, if I had gone to a normal high school.”

“What, was your awkward teenage boy fantasy about Mildred the bearded lady or something,” Darcy replies, not bothering to look up.

“Oh please, we had a trampolinist and a trapeze, Mildred didn’t stand a chance when you can watch people contort for a living,” Clint takes another long breath, “But you, you are on my bed, in your underwear, reading through a stack of comic books. That is amazingly hot. “

Darcy carefully selects a comic from her stack of already read and holds one out, “Fables?”

“Yes, baby,” Clint shrugs off his shirt, jumps onto the bed and maneuvers Darcy into resting against him before taking the issue from her. He’s got priorities after all, you can’t hurt the comic book and you can’t let the pretty girl reading comics out of your reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clint/Darcy new 
> 
> Always taking prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	17. Darcy/Steve/Bucky, sick fic

“I’m too miserable for you, either of you, to make me smile.” Darcy is underneath at least five layers of covers and still feels a little cold, and does not want to be bothered even by two very nice, very cute men with a tendency to mother like very concerned hens.

“Don’t buy that at all,” Bucky says, pulling back the covers from her over her head, “We are exceptional at making women smile. Why Steve is the very definition of earnest and I, well, I’m just charming.”

“Leave me alone,” she whines and coughs, “Let me die in peace? Please?” 

“It’s flu, Lewis, not the Black Death. I’m fairly certain that in the ensuing years, the flu isn’t as big of a deal as it was for us,” Steve counters, brushing her hair back.

“Go away, don’t want to get you sick.” Darcy grumbles without thinking, because duh, she can’t get them sick, and she can see the twin expressions of bemusement just before Steve scoops her up, blankets and all, “I am still not smiling or being amused by you.” And she’s rewarded for her stubbornness by a kiss to her forehead which does make her smile weakly.

“Ha, we win, sweet cheeks.” Bucky cheers, navigating through the suite to the living room, “Here you go.” Steve puts Darcy down in the middle of the couch and the men take up positions beside her.

“Shouldn’t be sick alone,” Steve says quietly as Bucky turns on the television and brings up a wide variety of cartoon offerings, “And we’ve got a few decades of Looney Tunes to catch up on, so maybe we can work on these two things together.” 

Darcy leans into Steve, lets Bucky take a hand, “I give in, commence with the making me laugh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Steve/Darcy/Bucky: h/c or sick fic please?   
> You can always prompt at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)  
> I make no promises that I'll be prompt with your prompt :)


	18. Darcy/Clint, dancing

“Two left feet, I’m afraid.” Darcy is not getting up. Not from her chair, not for anybody. She didn’t really want to go to the wedding reception anyways, but she felt so bad for her friend that didn’t want to go stag, that she couldn’t say no. 

She looks fantastic, but of course, she got ditched by her friend about 15 minutes into the reception and has been stuck at a table with nobody she knows and no way to leave early.

The rando asking her to dance turns away, tries his luck on someone else. Another man slips into the empty seat beside her. That seats been empty most of the night, the person didn’t seem to show.

“I missed dinner, didn’t I?” the new arrival says, playing with the placecard, “I always seem to miss dinner.”

“That you?” Darcy points to the card, “Clint Barton? And yeah, oh so very late for dinner. It was…okay, I guess. Not as great as I thought someplace that had good china would be.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Also, I’m a chronically late, overworked jackass who missed the wedding. At least, that’s what I expect to hear over email later. Co-workers. I swear, if I didn’t have to report to the groom when he gets back next week, I would have just stayed home. How do you know them?”

“I don’t. My friend, Jack over there, does.”

“Jack would be the one….trying to do the limbo with the….”

“Entirety of the bridesmaids, yes.”

They sit in silence for a few moments. It’s not a bad silence, but another guy comes up and tries to get Darcy to dance. Okay, so her tits are that fantastic looking that they are pretty much attracting any single guy to her like a gravity well, but seriously. She says no, but the jackhole starts to push back.

“I don’t dance with guys I don’t know.” She says into her drink, “And I don’t know you, so fuck off.”

“Come on, you can get to know me while we dance!” He tries, stepping closer.

“What she’s learning right now,” Clint says in a dangerous, gravel-ridden voice, “Is that you are creep who doesn’t understand the concept of the negative response. In what universe would a woman want to continue talking to a man who can’t even respect that?”

“I wasn’t asking you to dance, man, she’s prettier.”

“She is sitting right here, and I’m telling you to go away.” Darcy responds, trying for that same low voice. 

The creeper looks between Darcy and Clint, “Whatever, it was worth a shot.” and walks off.

“Okay dude, you either get a dance or a beer, which do you want?” Darcy says, laughing.

“I thought you didn’t dance with guys you didn’t know?” Clint smiles, ” I don’t dance with women I don’t know.”

“Darcy Lewis. You just stood up for me and for pretty much all women anywhere, I think I know you now.” Darcy leans in just a little and grins, “So a beer or a dance?”

Clint stands, holds out his hand, “I never turn down a dance when offered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clint/Darcy dancing   
> You can always prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	19. Darcy/Steve/Bucky, not creepy get together

“No, really Steve, let me take the lead on this one.” Bucky says, sitting on the counter, “You can still barely talk to women unless you are commanding them, and that’s not quite the tactic you need to take here. You got bigger, you didn’t get any smoother.”

“You only got to be more of an ass.”

“I’ve seen more of the world than you have. You didn’t get to see the miniskirts, not that there was much fabric there to see. Our girl Darcy would look amazing in them.”

“It’s just, this is…not the smooth road we want to ask her on.” Steve stutters through his sentence, and Bucky takes his hand, “How do we ask her to go down it without losing what we have if it sours?”

“If what sours?” Darcy asks, moving into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. The boys both look at each other, drop their hands, “I know your dirty little secret kids, not fooling me. Shame, though, it’s true, good ones are always taken or gay.” She reaches in, “Did you drink all the milk again Steve? It does do a body good, but you are done growing, we do not need to go through a gallon a day!”

“Not quite gay….” Steve says, closing his eyes.

“And taken has exceptions.” Bucky adds almost carefully, almost calculated, but not quite.

Darcy slowly pulls herself back up and looks over at them, bending back past the door of the refrigerator. She closes the door to the fridge quicker, breathless as she takes the steps over to Bucky, “Please don’t tell me I’m wrong.” and leans up, pulls him down with a hand on his neck, and kisses him through Bucky’s shocked response before he cradles her cheek in his hand.

Steve makes a motion and takes a sucked in breath, starts to inch himself back out of the kitchen, but it’s Darcy’s hand that reaches out for his wrist, and she lifts her head and repeats, “Please don’t tell me I’m wrong.” as her thumb rubs a restless circle against his skin.

She’s not wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: can you write a romance fic about Steve/Darcy/Bucky. Like, with Steve and Bucky trying to figure out a way for both of them to ask Darcy on a date without seeming creepy? 
> 
> Which....yeah, I sort of ignored that, huh?
> 
> You can always prompt me at [ My tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)  
> I am not always prompt with my prompts, but I do try to get to them all.


	20. Darcy/Steve/Bucky, graffiti

It’s good art, really. Dandelions floating away with the words, “Don’t let your past define you”.

“We would have painted over this when we were kids. No matter how good it was,” Steve says, “It’s a nice sentiment though.”

“Says you, you have the choice as to whether or not the stubborn kid from Brooklyn gets to define you.” Bucky replies, “Some of us are a bit more defined by our pasts than others. They can paint over it for all I care.”

Darcy looks between then with a bemused expression, “That’s rich. Tell me, James, did anyone ever call you Jimmy?”

“Not really,” He replies, “I’ve been Bucky since before I could walk, except for my sister.”

“Yeah, but think: Jimmy Barnes amazingly survives the war, goes to school for, I don’t know, marketing on the GI Bill. He marries and settles down with a nice woman, has a couple of kids and works until retirement. He does good by his children, but does nothing remarkable. He doesn’t change the world, for good or for ill, and dies and fades away.”

“Steven Rogers,” Bucky starts, “never gets to go to war, but works as a factory manager, and after the war, scrimps and saves to go to art school. He falls in love with the first nude model he has to draw and the man actually has the gall to reciprocate.” Bucky smiles sadly, “But Steven’s insistence on living with integrity leads to a fight he doesn’t get back up from.”

They aren’t big on public displays of affection; the press gets confused easily and can’t understand how they work, but Bucky wraps his arm around Darcy and she takes Steve’s big hand in her own. No one is really surprised when Steve says, “And Darcy Samantha Lewis never gets to New Mexico. She drops out of college after her first semester to follow a man across the country, and has three kids before she’s 22, and he ditches her, not realizing and not caring how amazing she really can be.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t do that.” Darcy shudders, “But see, even if we don’t let our past define us? It’s always part of us in what we did and didn’t do. We wouldn’t be us if, somehow our pasts didn’t define who we are.”

And they like who they are, the way they fit, the better the three of them than any single pairing could be. Darcy pulls them forward, Bucky keeps them going and Steve to keep them honest and all together to be unstoppable, and nobody gets left to their past alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Darcy/Steve/Bucky romance or bromance, prompt ideas might include rain, dancing and/or graffiti.
> 
> You can always find me or prompt me at [ My tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	21. Darcy, Coulson, Tony, puppies

“I first want it to be known,” Darcy states matter of factly, “that by asking you this, in no way means I have any sort of daddy complex.” 

Coulson blinks.

Tony winks.

Darcy rolls her eyes, “I still can’t believe I am doing this. Dear Mr Stark and Agent Coulson, I believe that I should be allowed to have a dog in Avengers tower for the following reasons….do I really have to say this out loud or can I just submit it to your email?”

“Oh no, I much prefer this orally” Tony says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Well... you did say ask you anything. Darcy/Coulson/Tony - puppies and ice skating!
> 
> I sidestepped it pretty well.
> 
> You can find and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	22. Clint/Darcy, fight

“Sorry, sorry, I’m Darcy. I’m down my normal staff tonight, sorry it’s taking so long to get to you,” The bartender is pretty, even if she’s flitting maddeningly around the bar, “I don’t know why the waitress and the bouncer both decided to call in tonight, but I can only imagine that it involves incredibly sweaty big man sex.” Her hair bounces with her head, “I take that back, I don’t want to imagine —-“ 

The sound of a breaking bottle captures her attention to another area of the bar where a man has another cornered, and yelling loudly, “Hey, fucker, knock it off.”

“Stay out of it missy!”

Clint watches the pretty bartender as she struts her way over. She barely looks old enough to drink much less, well, do much of anything to fat and meaty in the back.

“Really, you can’t find anything better than missy? What a badass. Get out of my bar!” He doesn’t miss the way that Darcy moves in order to let the cornered man out, and the big guy doesn’t miss it either and pushes the bartender away, “I’m really glad you touched me first asswipe.” 

He likes her swearing, it’s only a little derivative, but it’s expressive, and when the big man takes a a swing at Darcy he’s straight up out of his seat and halfway there when Darcy dodges and hits back with a hook that send the guy reeling back.

“Little help?” She says with a grin, “I can’t throw him out on my own.”

Clint’s gonna have to keep an eye on this one and this may just become his new favorite bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clint/Darcy, fight
> 
> You can find/follow/prompt me at [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	23. Darcy/Clint, election results

“Oh god, you finally did it. You have cocooned yourself in the media,” Clint says, walking into their living room and taking in the spectacle around Darcy. The television is on CNN, Darcy has at least 3 tablets set up around her, on with googles results, another on Huffpo and another on the New York Times, and most disturbingly, one of the holo displays has a giant map of the United States, showing various races and ballot measures.

“It’s like fucking Christmas, New Years and Valentines Day, baby.” Something refreshes and Darcy starts freaking out, “Look! Puerto Rico is voting that it wants to start the process for Statehood. Although the question on the ballot is really weird and complicated.”

“Wait, Valentines Day? This is like Valentines Day for you?” Clint asks, really kind of freaked out by the amount of talking heads in the room.

“Well, yeah, I mean most of this is just confirming what we already know, but the process man. Participatory democracy just gets me really hot.”

“Would you look at that, I have an I Voted sticker on.”

“Get over here then stud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Darcy/Clint: watching election results
> 
> You can find/follow/prompt me at [ My Tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	24. Darcy/Clint, pretzel

“Do we have any lye?” Darcy yells from the communal kitchen.

And because Clint and Natasha share the worlds most dangerous brain (albeit one that can seriously give opinions about shoes) they reply in unison, “Soap or explosives?” 

Darcy sighs the sigh of the long suffering, “….neither? Food grade? Never mind, I’ll set up a baking soda bath instead.” 

Clint gets up and walks over, leaning over the island counter where Darcy is separating a ball of dough into sections, and setting a pot to boil. “What are you making sweetheart?”

“I had a hankering for soft pretzels. Ones that don’t come frozen.” she replies, finishing sectioning the dough, and he doesn’t miss that there’s enough for everyone currently in the tower, and then a couple of over. She sees him counting and smiles, “To the chef go the spoils.”

“Can I help?” Clint says, picking up one of the sections. She smiles and nods, and before she finishes if he knows how to roll them, he’s got it already perfect. 

“Okay, I’ve seen you make JELL-O that doesn’t set, but you can shape dough like a champ?” She shapes her own in a slightly different way, more like ribbons than traditional pretzels, and Clint resists the urge to redo them for her. 

“I’ve had practice. We’d catch up with one of those traveling amusement parks, you know, the one with the deathtrap rides? But this one loved their pretzels and they’d make them themselves by hand. Barney and I were just roustabouts then, and we’d both help make them before they were put into cold storage for the next day.” His hands aren’t careful and precise, like he is about so many things in life, not like he always is with her. Careful is for work, and joyful is for play.

And this is play, this is watching Darcy lower the dough into the baking soda and water boiling on the cooktop, making joke about how they don’t have food grade lye. This is play, whipping up an egg wash and salting the dough before it goes into the oven. 

And this is play, letting his fingers twine with hers, dirty and sticky and cherished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy/Clint, Pretzels  
> You can always find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	25. ficlet: Darcy & Pepper, RESCUE

“So, just out of curiosity Pepper, why am I being dragged through the back way through Tony’s workshop?”

Pepper doesn’t answer, just keeps leading Darcy through the strangest section of the workshop that Darcy has ever been in. She’s not down there a whole lot like Pepper or Steve is, because she usually has no need. She’s only there usually if she’s following Pepper, but that usually means carrying paperwork and not a flashlight.

When Pepper finally stops and calls for JARVIS to turn on the lights Darcy can see why her boss brought her down here.

“That’s…a suit, Pep.”

“It is.” Pepper says blandly.

“It has…” Darcy makes a gesture over her chest and then adjusts for size, “Definetly not a Darcy sized chest plate. That is a Pepper sized suit.” She’s mostly surprised that there’s no nipples. Surprised and relieved because that would have been tacky, which means it would have been right up Stark’s depraved alley.

“It is.” Pepper seems to be stuck in dumbfounded, and shakes her head, “I can’t believe it’s still the same color scheme. You’d think he’d want them to be a little different.”

  
“I believe that was accomplished by the breasts on the armor, Potts.” Darcy points out as Pepper gets a dreamy expression on her face as she circles around the armor. It is magnificently displayed, and looks pretty finished. Stark doesn’t usually put the paint on until everything is complete, aesthetics are great and all, but they get in the way. Pepper pulls out a tablet and the projection of the schematics displays before them. Boss-lady just stares taking it in and Darcy decides to ask an obvious question, “How is it powered? I mean, Tony has the energizer bunny for a heart, but you don’t.”

  
**There is an internal power source, Ms Lewis**

and oh hey, that’s the suit talking, not ceiling JARVIS.  That’s suit JARVIS.

  
“Is the suit functional, Jarvis?”

  
**The Mark 1616 is indeed functional, Ms Potts**

  
Pepper slowly half smiles which turns into a smirk which Darcy has only seen rivaled by Stark when he’s about to do something incredibly stupid and explosive, without even safety glasses, “Pepper. Pepper.” Darcy pleads, “Pepper no, this isn’t a good idea.”

  
Oh god, Pepper brought her down here to help her get the suit on. It’s like watching Tony do every bad idea he’s ever had, except with more precision and taking off high heels.

  
“I’m just going to take a peek at it, that’s all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't a prompt, but part of what was going to be a longer series. The first part ended up being the start of [ What Happens on Spring Break, Stays on Spring Break](http://archiveofourown.org/works/536145), so I'm letting this stand on it's own here. The depth of my love about the Rescue armor knows no bounds, people.
> 
> You can always find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	26. Clint/Darcy, Budapest

Interdepartmental cooperation his left nut, he’s in Budapest, again, tracking down the woman he’s dating, again. Because now Darcy’s gone and gotten herself abducted or off the grid or something. You’d that DSS would be able to arrange an extraction themselves.

But fuck Budapest. Something about the city just screams “SHIELD! SHIELD WE NEED HELP” and something about it means using an awful lot of smoke bomb tipped arrows. Clint’s leading a small team of SHIELD and DSS agents through the now smokey gunrunner den where they think they are holding Agent Lewis.

Best to think of her as Agent Lewis right now, and not think about how the first time they are in the same city in Europe at the same time, and they really could stand to cross Europe off the list, so they can start on individual countries. He’s not going to think about what he’s going to do once he gets her back, because it’s already been three months since he saw her last, and he’s had those thoughts since about an hour after he left the last time.

So really, same old same old.

Except right now, his team is kicking in a door in the den and he sees quite possibly the most beautiful sight in the world, considering the amount of knocked out bodies and blood on the floor.

“I’m sorry, did you want to be the hero this time?” Darcy says. There’s something to be said for being kidnapped by arms dealers, because she’s dripping head to toe in arms and armor. The truly beautiful gun in Darcy’s hands is unfamiliar tech, something he is sure that Stark is going to want to get his filthy brain around. He wants to go a few rounds with it on the range too.

Well, after he gets his hands on Darcy and goes a few rounds with her as well. Because fuck Budapest and putting barriers between him and the people he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the [ Come On Sweet Catastrophe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/485163/chapters/844816) verse.
> 
> Prompt: Clint/Darcy "Budapest 
> 
> You can always find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	27. Darcy/Steve/Bucky, lost

Darcy jumps over the back of the couch gracelessly, pushing herself in-between Steve and Bucky. It’s amused Darcy that it seems men of their generation are much more comfortable with being physically near each other. She’s seen in their photographs, ones from the war, ones from before. The farther back in history she goes, the less it seems that men were afraid of each others nearness.

She wraps her hand in Steve’s and angles her legs across his lap. Steve wraps his strong arm around her shoulder, draws her close and Bucky smiles and shakes his head. It’s one of those, took you long enough looks that James has been sending them since he came back to himself and was able to see Steve happy and not be jealous of that happiness.

Watching television is comfortable for them, Steve belong to the sit your ass down and watch school, while Darcy and Bucky have a tendency for ignore Steve as much as possible when they find a really good tangent of discussion.

Darcy slumps, letting Bucky take her weight and looks up, “How do you feel?” she can feel Steve tense and slowly relax underneath her legs.

“I feel just fine, Darcy, thank you for asking?” James answers bemused.

“No, I meant, the arm. I’ve wanted to ask, but I thought it would be rude, and I know I’m not always polite and shit, but I worry about these things.” Darcy rambles and releases her hold on Steve to grab at Bucky’s cybernetics, “And well, it looks just like well articulated metal. How does it feel?”

“Oh,” he breathes in, watching as Darcy holds him at the wrist, her fingers exploring and tracing each one of his own fingers, “Um, neural pathways, it’s not quite the same as flesh and blood. It’s more vivid, like being able to see more of the light spectrum, that sort of expanded information. Other things too, but that’s more work than…”

“The everyday existence and necessity of touch?” Darcy finishes, still holding his hand by the wrist, her breath hitching for a moment when he moves his wrist to release her grip on it, but she’s the one that surprises him, pressing their palms together, locking their fingers as he watches in wonder, her pale skin against cool, dark metal.

Steve’s free hand is relaxed, up a little higher on Darcy’s thigh than he would ever risk in public, or even among the others. He’s watching with curiosity, and they all can read Bucky’s face as a litany of ‘my best friends girl, best friends girl’ shines like a beacon on a face that can be as taciturn as the dead when need be. But he looks at Steve, and there’s not a hint of worry anywhere, but rather interest.

Darcy slumps further, resting her head in his lap, taking his arm with her. He smiles and looks down, keeping his disbelief close to himself, and stretches out the other arm, and rests it on top of Steve’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy/Steve/Bucky, Lost  
> You can always find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	28. Clint/Darcy, faux fur hats

“What?” Darcy pouts, “Do I have something in my teeth?”

Clint looks her up and down again, “Not in your teeth. Babe, do you know what undercover means?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Clint takes in her entire outfit, the leggings, the high waisted skirt and old silk blouse, the cardigan that looks like Mister Rogers would renounce his neighborhood for, and the monstrous fake-fur hat with the earmuffs. She’s traded out her normal frames for bigger ones.

“You’re the one that isn’t going to blend in.” She waves her hand, “Jeans and a button-down? This isn’t the mid-west throwdown hoedown —”

“We don’t have hoedowns in Iowa.” Clint objects.

“We’re heading to a neighborhood that tries too hard to look cool and ends up looking about four months behind. Trust me, I’m going to blend in far more than you. You are going to stick out. At least your jeans are tight enough, even if they aren’t skinny. Three more layers, go, do it now!” Darcy pushes him back towards the closet and doesn’t let him leave for the briefing before he doesn’t match and is only allowed to wear one article of clothing that’s purple.

But damn, that scarf is a fine shade of purple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Clint/Darcy, faux fur hats
> 
> You can keep up with me, or send your own prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	29. Clint/Darcy, Stargazing

Darcy finds it really hard to believe that SHIELD can’t afford airfare to take her from Jane’s New Mexico makeshift lab to Jane’s shiny brand new labs in yet another mostly deserted place, but here she is. Jane swears up and down that no, she can’t be anywhere near the eastern seaboard, have you seen the light pollution, it’s a miracle you can see the North Star any of the time.

So yeah, here Darcy is, having made the shift in the past year from intern to lab manager for a whole crop of interns, babysitting the most fragile of the equipment being moved in a van with, okay, this isn’t a hardship. Because wow, she lucked out on her assigned jack-booted SHIELD thug, damn. They do not all look like that, and this Clint Barton has never met a shirt he didn’t feel the need to rip the sleeves off of and for this, Darcy is thankful.

She’s half-asleep, her head lolling from side to side, and jerks awake when she lands on his shoulder. She mutters out an apology and, “I should probably at least try to stay awake, if you are going to do most of the driving.”

“Nah, it’s cool.” He takes his eyes off the road just long enough to smile down at her, “It’s the middle of the night, sleeping is fine.”

“On you?”

“I’ve been told I have a comfy shoulder.” He sighs quickly, shakes his eyes open wide, “However, I think I know where we are and I’d really like to take a walk and shake out my legs.”

“Can I walk with you?” Darcy asks, not really wanting to be left alone with the ….whatever Foster decided could only go with Darcy. It could eat her.

Barton pulls off the road, travels through a farmers path for a little ways, and ends up helping her down from the truck.

“You know where this is? I don’t even know what state we are in.” Darcy realizes, “Oh my god, what state are we in?”

“We’re in Iowa, Ms Lewis.”

“Darcy. Ms Lewis is my mother. Or my grandmother because my mom really prefers the honorific jackass. How do you know where we are?”

“You talk a lot.” Barton walks ahead of her by a few steps, his voice and his face unreadable.

“I get that a lot. Come on, we’ve got like what, another 6 hours at least. Least we can do is talk.” She puts emphasis on the least we can do. Six hours in the truck at least and she’s going to make the most of it. She watches the back of his head duck with just a hint of flattery and he holds out his arm. Darcy takes the quick step she needs to catch up and takes it.

“I kinda grew up in the circus,” he waits while Darcy chokes out a laugh before continuing, “and our home base was here. The circus folded a few years ago, but the farmer who owns this is still a friend.” They walk up to a building, a barn that’s sturdy enough but has seen better days and about five different coats of paint. He scales a ladder up to the roof with practiced ease, even though there are rungs missing.

Darcy enjoys the view and asks lightly, “Want me to join you?” Barton’s grin is broad and slightly dirty. And oh yes, this is going to be just the right amount of fun. When he motions for her to sit, he doesn’t touch her, but leans back on his arms.

Darcy starts rattling off the constellations she can see, different from the spring sky in New Mexico, but recognizable because of her secret childhood nerdiness, renewed during the internship. Clint’s trying to be stealthy as she talks, inching closer and closer and she bends towards him, “Why Agent Barton, do you try make a move on all of your charges?”

“As a matter of professional pride, I don’t.” and he brings his face right up to hers, breathing the same air, and a million other cliches, “But I’m constantly told that I’m not very professional.”

And okay, she really has to kiss him for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I was asked for clint and darcy stargazing.
> 
> You can keep up with me, or send your own prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	30. Clint/Darcy, rain

When they finally find Clint and bring him back in, it’s a raucous mess of voices and movement that comes to a complete standstill when Darcy opens the door. Her face is wet and she’s still crying, it’s been weeks since he was MIA, and she squirrels her way past every agent and every doctor, right up beside the stretcher. She’s ahead of even Natasha, who keeps her distance, but concern plain on her face as she watches the scene from a doorway. Natasha’s content just to watch, but Darcy’s never been that sort of person.

A doctor warns her that from what they can tell, he’s awake, but not with it, not making sense, and they need to prep him for surgery and please step back. She threatens him with every phrase she’s learned from an assortment of foul-mouthed heroes and a few cleaner ones too.

“Baby?” Clint stops the indiscriminate delirious raving he’d been on, focusing straight on Darcy. Her heart leaps up past her brain and she really believes he’s there with her, and she doesn’t give a shit how dirty and whose blood he’s wearing, she leans down and kisses him, and sheds a few tears on his cheek.

The tears draw him back though, and while he’s not trying to get out of the stretcher anymore, he’s clearly not quite there when he starts singing, “Soon it’s gonna rain. I can feel it. Soon it’s gonna rain. I can tell. Soon it’s going to rain. What are we going to do?”

Darcy’s left standing as the doctors get moving again, and accepts Natasha’s arm on her shoulder for the comfort it is before they walk back to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: another Clint/Darcy, rain.  
> (song is [Soon it’s Gonna Rain](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPfqFD2kfVU), from The Fantasticks)
> 
> You can keep up with me, or send your own prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	31. Clint/Darcy, for science

“An object in motion tends to stay in motion.” Darcy mutters darkly, “Objects at rest, tend to stay at rest.” she pulls the covers back over her head and rolling over.

“So, what you are saying is, if I can get you moving and out of bed, once I get you running, you’ll just keep going.”

“No, I am going to keep myself in my blanket burrito.” she replies, her voice muffled by speaking into her pillow, “It is Sunday, a day of rest. I am resting.”

Clint carefully starts pulling away the covers from her face, “When we run, we get all warm and sweaty. Natural consequence of that is a long shower. And the natural reaction we have towards that….” he leans in and whispers into her ear. He can’t really see her face, but he can see the muscles move into slow dirty and crooked smile.

“But burrito?” she asks, as she starts unrolling herself.

“Laws of motion first.” Clint says with a smile, “We can see just how true that statement is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: clint/darcy, for science
> 
> You can keep up with me, or send your own prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	32. Clint/Darcy, Beyonce

“No, I’m just saying, I think I get it.” Darcy says, sitting in the airport terminal, Clint at her side. She’s not entirely certain which of his many, many id’s, fake or otherwise, he’s used to be pass security when he is not boarding a flight. “It’s a thing, I think.”

“A screw you SHIELD thing?” Clint questions.

“Not particularly. Probably would be the same thing if it were another organization trying to get their tenterhooks into Jane and her research. She doesn’t like strings, she doesn’t like sharing credit, and she doesn’t like being beholden to anyone other than herself. I think she barely tolerates academia. That’s why instead of working at her university, she’s stationed herself in the middle of a desert.”

“A desert very far away from New York.” Clint grumbles.

“You have jets that go very fast, not to mention a car and an endless amount of 80’s music.” she retorts, “Jane likes being independent. She likes getting her own funding — although I know you monitor that very closely, and she likes dragging Thor away from here as much as possible. It’s all very Beyonce-type shit. She depends on herself.”

“And you.” Clint says, listening as Darcy’s boarding call announcement starts. First Class for once in her life. Darcy has nothing against coach, but having a boyfriend who isn’t a slouch in the paycheck (or hacking, it could have been hacking) department is nice.

“And me,” she agrees, and shrugs. She stands and is pulled into a rough and rare public display of affection, something that comes easier and easier to Clint on every trip. In either direction.

She boards the plane with something like regret but more like wistful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Clint/Darcy, Beyonce   
> (my reaction to this prompt when it came in was roughly what the hell?)
> 
> You can keep up with me, or send your own prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	33. Darcy/Steve, makeup

He likes to watch. He’s seen women without makeup and seen them with it on, in various combinations and amounts and layers. The chorus girls created themselves with garish stage makeup, and Peggy always was immaculate even in the middle of a war.

But he’s seen Darcy in every stage, in every possible permutation of being, but watching her transform herself into her larger than life persona is a thing of beauty. He thinks about the careful brushstrokes (and he’s not ashamed to admit he bought a vanity, the type only rich women had, just for Darcy and the artless way she puts every bit of plastic away) while she puts on foundation and blush. Or the preciseness of her eyeliner, how long her lashes get when she takes the time to curl them. 

Darcy catches his reflection in the mirror and shakes her head with soundless smile. She pulls open a drawer and holds up a few tubes of lipstick. “Which one?” Darcy asks. Steve can see from where he sits, but he walks over anyways, kneels in front of her looking at the colors. He leans up and kisses her soundly, and when he pulls back far too soon, he watches as her sleek lips flush dark and rosy.

He looks at the shades again, takes one and folds it up her hand. “This one,” he says quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Darcy/Steve, make up
> 
> You can keep up with me, or send your own prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	34. Bucky/Darcy, straight hair

“I’m sorry, we’ve met?” Bucky isn’t used to people knowing his name and coming to sit next to him like he’s a normal person. Not yet anyways.

“Uh, yeah. I work here, in the liaison office? See?” The woman holds out an ID badge, science green, labeling her as Darcy Lewis, “And we had an entire conversation yesterday about the relative merits of types of fried rice. I’m still partial to my homemade version, whereas you liked the crap they serve down the street.”

“It’s not real chinese food, it’s all kind of crappy.” Bucky retorts, looking closer at the picture. It’s obviously the same woman, but she’s wearing her hair naturally in the photo, lush dark waves that curl at the shoulder.

Darcy, sitting in front of him, has stick straight hair that shines. It’s not a bad look, but it’s unfamiliar. The last time he saw women with their hair that straight, it was more unkempt.

Darcy narrows her eyes, “What are you looking at? Did I spill something on myself? I hate it when I do that.”

“No, nothing like that. Just….” he relents, giving up hope of keeping an upper hand on this conversation, and just lets himself enjoy it. Which, if he’s remembering yesterday correctly, is exactly what he did then, “Your hair is different, that’s all.”

“Oh you like it? It’s a pain and a bitch to do, but you know, fashion.” Darcy waves her hands in front of her.

“Actually, no. I liked it better yesterday.” He says bluntly, “It reminded me of…never mind.”

“Oh yeah, you’re Steve’s friend,” she puts emphasis on the word friend, and a few barriers break away. She knows who he is and where he comes from.

“It looks right with the curls. When I was…younger, that’s just how all women wore their hair. Different styles, sure, but it was always wavy.”

“And just as much a pain and a bitch to maintain as this. You know the crap that women had to do to wear their hair like that, right? Special haircuts, getting it set, washing your hair was actually a thing.” She runs her hand through her hair, “Sometimes makes this look easy. I’ll wash in the morning and my hair will be back to normal. Just like yesterday.”

“I look forward to tomorrow then.” Bucky replies with an easy smile that Darcy returns.

“Maybe you’ll even recognize me then,” She looks at her phone, “Gotta run. Care and feeding of my geniuses time. See you later…Bucky, right?” He nods in response, “Right, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Bucky loves her wavy hair. He's sort of confused when Darcy straightens it. Will it go back?
> 
> Last one for the night, I think, and I’ve covered enough personal grooming. Also, I have no idea how straightening your hair works, because my hair is already straight as a pin. And I’ve never figured out why you’d want to make your hair look like mine.
> 
> You can keep up with me, or send your own prompts at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	35. Clint/Darcy, twisted

“I’m pretty sure he’s a little old to just be an intern.” Natasha says, peering over the security footage of the New Mexico operation, “And a little scruffy looking.”

“I’m fairly certain they call them non-traditional students these days.” Darcy is trying not to look at the security tapes, mostly because she’s been over them over and over. Approaching guys isn’t usually a problem for her, but she’s not really supposed to have met Dr Fosters intern Clint yet, and the size of the crush is really rather embarrassing. She picks up a stack of arrows instead and starts checking the fletchings.

“Also, I’m pretty sure the way to a man’s heart isn’t through stalking the feeds and watching him while he sleeps.” Natasha says, “Although, I really wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, you prefer to shoot the people you want to sleep with.” Darcy smirks.

“It’s a good way to keep them in one place.”

Darcy can’t resist anymore, and looks over at the feed. She watches Clint bent over a laptop, doing some sort of science she won’t even begin to understand. She’s not entirely certain Clint understands it either. But he’s smart and snarky and is entirely too built to just be a geeky lab rat. Darcy just shoots things for a living and it’s hard to get over that.

“I may have scheduled myself for the night watch tonight, around the time they go up to the roof.” Darcy mutters, “And maybe I’ll even talk to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the entirely too much fun AU.  
> prompt Clint/Darcy, twisted


	36. Darcy & Jane & Thor, Thanksgiving

Once again, Clint is off on a mission. Darcy’s pretty sure it’s not deliberate, but a full year of holidays where her boyfriend is off shooting neat little holes into people, and she’s starting to get suspicious.

“Do you think it’s going to work?” Jane whispers to Darcy while Sitwell is talking to Thor about what he is allowed to talk about and what he is not supposed to mention at all.

“Well, Thor has been avoiding the cameras lately. And my parents do maintain a polite fiction about what I do for a living, so maybe, maybe they’ll accept that I’m bringing my boss and her boyfriend Donald Blake, who just happens to go by Thor, to Thanksgiving dinner.”

 

The nice thing about it being Thor that she brings home, is that you really can’t help but be grinning the whole time. Since the extended portion of Darcy’s family is so far away, it’s always been just Darcy and her parents….and then a random selection of single neighbors, new to the area coworkers and friends, and whoever else her over-indulgent mother has invited. Thor isn’t even the strangest person that’s shown up in the past (that honor belongs to actual family members) but he is the most enthusastic.

Also the hungriest. It’s the first thanksgiving Darcy can ever recall that there aren’t any leftovers.

But it’s later, when the boss and Darcy are watching Thor learn how to play touch football with the neighbors kids, seeing how careful he is with them, because Thor is a man who knows his own strength, that Darcy admits that this is probably the best Thanksgiving ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a good friend asked for: darcy/clint thanksgiving/visiting family? or thor. thor visiting ANYONE's family for thanksgiving. and his joy at FEAST.  
> and then told me it was all her brother's fault.


	37. Coulson & Darcy, college

Halfway through her last semester at Culver, Darcy’s American History after 1950 (also known as the time period that high school covered in two days because they ran out of time) professor just ups and leaves. The rumors run from mental breakdown to being run off by the mob to a secret organization asking him to consult on recent history.

Darcy’s not sure about that, but the guy that’s taken over for him? Him she can believe works for a secret agency. If she wasn’t looking at him for fifty minutes three days a week, she’d completely miss him. But he’s a good lecturer, has an exhaustive grasp of current events and the ability to find what’s being woven together to create it, and he’s not bad to look at, in a deceptively bland sort of way. He’s sticking to the syllabus, which is a godsend, because Darcy really hates it when professors improvise.

The university could have done a whole lot worse than Phil Coulson, is what she’s saying, here.

She spends hours battling it out with him in during office hours, trying to write her final paper on corporate interests in military conflicts and Coulson keeps fighting her on Stark Industries. He’s got to have more information than she can find and it’s pissing her off. She is a research ninja, can wrangle google into finding sweet sweet data that no one else can, and she’s a master of census data, but none of that means anything to Coulson. Because she’s wrong and he won’t (can’t, what if it’s can’t, Darcy?) share with her whatever it is that that she’s missing.

The semester goes on and she fills out the course evaluations like everyone else, but includes on hers a detailed explanation of why her final paper should have gotten an A instead of a B. They finish their evaluations, she returns it to the History department office and knocks on Coulson’s office to let him know he can come back to the classroom.

“Miss Lewis, do you know what your plans are after graduation?” he asks as they walk back to the classroom.

“Ha, in this economy? Probably learn how to say paper or plastic?” Darcy replies, and Coulson hands her a card. She reads off, “Philip Coulson, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? That’s a mouthful.”

“We’re working on it.”

“Asset Management?”

“Give me a call after school ends, we could always find a place for a woman like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt requested: Coulson/Darcy college


	38. Clint/Darcy, coffee

“No, screw that, I’m fairly certain that Keurig’s are like, the freaking devil or something.” Darcy doesn’t feel she has to actually explain this, but Clint is looking back at her with something akin to ‘my girlfriend has just said something totally out of the ass end of nowhere again’ and apparently, she does. “Look, ever since everyone and their dog has gotten one, they all have become homegrown coffee connoisseurs or some crap.”

“Oh no, we can’t have have people knowing what they like!” Clint mocks.

“Except they don’t. The coffee is actual facts crap, and I shudder to think what’s going to happen when their patent on those little cups runs out and anyone can buy and make them, because really, I don’t see the really good beans going in them.”

“You like your coffee black, Darce. “

“I like to taste my coffee, babe. I know you have not a shit to give about coffee, because I swear, you suck on instant grounds on ops to stay awake, but I like coffee. “

Clint is staring at her, then darts his eyes back and forth. Oh shit, mouth is moving ahead of her brain again. “I uh, suppose I could have said that a little softer.” Another glare, “And not in the middle of Bed, Bath and Beyond?”

Clint rolls his eyes, “I suppose it is better than your rant against bagged tea in the middle of Whole Foods.”

“That’s not tea, it’s floor sweepings.” Darcy mumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: clint/darcy, coffee/syrup


	39. Darcy/Steve, fan kids and autographs

It doesn’t happen every time they go out. Sometimes Steve can get by without really being noticed, and if they go someplace that’s all adults, no one really seems to put together the man in the spangly outfit with the man in the slightly out of date clothing. Darcy has, on occasion, tried to turn him into a rockabilly showcase, but the 1950’s aren’t really Steve’s thing, and her hilarious night with wikipedia set to fashion subcultures leads to a discussion on retro fashion. Turns out Steve isn’t a huge fan, but he can certainly see the appeal of it on women. But he laments that there isn’t as much variety as he remembers.

“It’s sort of like watching modern movies that portray my time. Everything’s all sepia, and it’s maddening. There was vibrancy there, all the time. You didn’t have a huge closet like you do now, so everything you had was something special. And if you lived where I did, it was all handmade too.”

But if they go anywhere with kids, it’s entirely different. Children see right past the dowdy clothes and immediately make the connection. Some just step back and run into their parents legs, big eyed in recognition. Other hide, and some nervously step forward.

The brave ones come in all ages, all shapes and sizes, and Darcy knows Steve is proudest of the small ones, the ones that come out of the crowds of little kid to approach him, pen and paper, shirt, whatever, in hand.

A little girl tells him, all of about six, with white-blond hair and brown eyes and wearing a tutu over leggings, “My dad says you aren’t real.”

Steve bends over, talks to her at her level, even though he and Darcy are at dinner in his favorite cafe (and that waitress better watch her eyes), “Does he now?”

“Yep,” the girl breathes unsteadily as Steve signs the reprint collectors card that she has with her. It’s obviously well-loved already, been folded in her pockets many times over. “He says you are probably just some soldier they dressed up because he fit the suit.”

“Well, I am the original, and I’m just a very lucky soldier. So you both can be right, okay, sweetheart?”

The answering grin is immediate, “And my mom says that it doesn’t matter, because you are just hot.”

Darcy can’t help but laugh, “And she isn’t wrong there either. Everyone’s right, it’s a wonderful day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Steve/Darcy fan kids and autographs


	40. Clint & Darcy, bros

Coulson has not been looking forward to this day. He managed to keep the two of them from ever meeting in New Mexico by assigning Clint to the NASA complex and Darcy went back to school. His sigh of relief had been audible, causing about half of the other handlers to step back and wait for him to do...something.

But his, well his death and subsequent not-dying, has shown the need for an assistant, and the pool of available agents hasn’t quite recovered, and careful coming of the database uncovered only a few civilians that fit his needs, and had already been assessed by SHIELD as potentially useful.

Granted, they had figured that Darcy Lewis would have been useful more as a carrot to dangle in front of Dr Foster when she wouldn’t work for them, but she came up surprisingly high in the rankings. Ms Lewis, it seems, was a master at underselling herself. Coulson can appreciate that, being a natural at it himself.

And then there’s Barton, who had always acted the guard dog for Coulson, who now watches even more steadily, is more protective and looks at Coulson with this guilt-ridden expression when he thinks Phil can’t see him (which is never, of course. Phil can always see him). Barton, who is nervous about the idea of an assistant because that’s someone else to keep an eye on. Barton, who he has carefully kept away from Ms Lewis because the world might break if they decide to be on good terms.

Which it seems they might just.

“Agent Barton,” Darcy says, careful and precise, “Do you like beer?”

“I like beer.” Barton replies, his eyes narrowed and pointed.

“Agent Barton, do you like pizza and movies where things explode?”

“Miss Lewis, I love pizza and movies where things explode.”

“Then, Agent Barton, I suggest we gather these three things, and partake of their amazing qualities, and discuss the best ways of keeping my new boss healthy, hale and sound.”

It’s possibly the worst day of Phil Coulson’s second chance at life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: clint/darcy, bros  
> It took me far too long to get over just saying aw, bro like the guys in Hawkeye #3


	41. Clint/Darcy, mask

Darcy wishes she knew Clint before New York. She’d seen him in New Mexico, just out of the corner of her eye every so often. He wasn’t supposed to be seen, but occasionally he lingered with the rest of the guards for a cup of coffee. She’d not seen his expression then, and she’s real tired of his fuck off smirk now.

She’s not even sure why she keeps going out with him. It’s the same thing every time. They trade sarcastic quips, get cheap and greasy food somewhere and end up groping each other on the couch. It’s a fine arrangement, but it’s emotionally boring.

She could tell five minutes after meeting the guy, that he wasn’t a talk about things like emotions or the past, his personal history sort of guy, but really, she thought he might at least be the type that occasionally talks. He wears his smirk and his pranks and his assholeness in place, and out of the corner of the her eye, she can watch it drop. He’s tired, flagged and ridden with something worse than guilt.

She hears the stories in the halls, about how he killed or hurt many of his friends and co-workers, but he does talk about that. Accepted that it wasn’t him in control, just his skills and competence following a master. Made his peace, hard fought through that.

There’s something still haunting him at his edges.

She’s early to his place, but he’s given her the ability to get through the security, and walks in. He’s unguarded, and listening intently to a message, seemingly playing on a loop, just a few phrases, but the one he stops and plays over an over is “If you are serious, Barton, I’m game. You know where to find me.”

Darcy doesn’t have tact, “Who is that?” And Clint must have been caught up in himself because he jumps and his smirk comes back and Darcy’s heart kinda falls to the gutters. Before he can make whatever remark he’s gonna try she stops him, “Yeah, can the bullshit, I’m tired of it. What is that.” she makes her face go straight to, tell me or I’m out of here.

And he reads her correctly, because he ducks his head and mumbles, “It’s a guy that I tried to recruit when I was under Loki’s control. He just got back to me.”

She hasn’t heard anything from this side of the whole debacle, so she sits, takes his hand and it’s like he’s touched starved and has been for months. “Did you….”

“It’s like no one seems to care that I was able to recruit an entire secret lair’s worth of people and mercenaries out of SHIELD’s bad guy lists. And it just keeps going through my head that they all believed me and followed me. I want to know why.”

Darcy lets him take her hand, and then lets him stay in silence. He’s done talking, but it’s not over by a longshot. But it’s a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Clint/Darcy, masks
> 
> also known as the prompt that launched a thousand feels to work through. Thanks anon!
> 
> That's the last one I worked on this week. As always, you can follow me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com), and send prompt ideas there. I try to get to all of them, but I also send a couple to other people needing prompts. Thank you for reading!


	42. Bucky/Darcy, doorframe

“Getting handsy, aren’t you?” Darcy groans as Bucky pushes her into an open doorway.

“That is the general idea,” Bucky teases her shirt out of her skirt while attacking her mouth breathlessly, not letting her have the ability to speak or snark, or anything else, “Mmm, coffee.” He drifts his hand down her arm and takes her by the wrist, lifting it up to the frame. “Hold on,” he says, with his best dirty grin.

Darcy doesn’t even know what to do with herself, the cool metal of his arm taking her by the waist, under her low-cut shirt. He sinks effortlessly down to his knees, not losing contact with her eyes while he slowly lifts up the front of her skirt and takes down her panties. She lifts her legs one at a time to get them out of the way, and grips the doorway with both hands now.

Bucky doesn’t do anything by halves and nothing tentative, even the first touches of his tongue against her are firm and knowing. And it’s no time at all before she’s glad she’s holding onto solid wood beams, his hot breath a constant contrast as she leans into his colder hand, letting him take some of her weight. A miracle of modern science and very handy,

Darcy takes jagged breaths in time as he darts in and out of her, cries out when her knees buckle. She drops, dragging her hands down the side of the door to land and cradle Bucky’s head, raking fingers through hair that’s just a little past shaggy. He drops kisses in an arc across the rise of her breasts, keeping pace as she regains her composure.

“I’m changing your middle name, you are now James Incorrigible Barnes.” she laughs low in her throat, “and I’m fairly certain this doorway leads to a bed.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bucky/Darcy, doorframe  
> look, with a prompt like that, it was either smut or construction. Smut wins


	43. Coulson & Darcy (twisted!au), I don't give a damn about my bad reputation

“Here, take this and blend in.” Coulson says, handing off a foil wrapped hot dog to Agent Jimenez, keeping a small packet of popcorn for himself.

“Blend in?” He scoffs, “You are kidding me right? You want me to blend in here? Coulson, you brought me to a rodeo.”

“And Wild West show.” Coulson adds.

“Why did you bring me to a rodeo, Coulson?” Agent Jimenez asks.

“I need an opinion.” He leads the way into the stadium style seating while a trick rider finishing up his act leaves the pit.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls,” the announcer sounds, muffled by a rowdy audience, “Our half-time entertainment is drawing to a close. Take a seat, take a gander at our lady archer, more accurate than Annie Oakley, braver than Calamity Jane, the Amazing Hawkeye!”

The SHIELD Agents settle in to watch a young woman in wild west get up, fringe on her shirt, and her dark hair in ringlet curls, knocks the ashes off of a volunteers cigarette, and never misses a shot.

*

Coulson tells Jimenez to secure the area, and finds the RV marked for Hawkeye. It has the telltale signs of impermanence, like she just moved in, her few personal effects poking out of a suitcase. There’s an English longbow in a corner, sharing space with a reproduction rifle and two cases holding a takedown recurve and a compound bow.

Outside of the rodeo, she cleans up with a little too much makeup, jean shorts that are probably illegal for him to see, and any remnant of her stage presence is stripped away. He knocks on a panel of the RV, and the woman allows him to enter, and he closes the door behind him.

“I don’t know you.” she says, getting a look over him, clearly assessing him and staying alert, her hand going for a wooden spoon. An interesting choice considering the weapons nearby.

“Ms. Lewis.”

She straightens her back, puffing up to what little height she has, and tightens her eyes before relaxing into a false warmth, “Sorry, wrong number.” He lists names and aliases gets ten deep before she finally calls it quits, holds up her hand, “Fine, I’m Darcy Lewis. What do you want?”

“You do good work, but you move on quick from each place you go. New costume, new act, same name. Why is that?”

“Nomadic progression?” Darcy smirks and tries to discreetly find a window so that she’s not completely cornered, “Finding the best sideshow to showcase my skills, that’s all.”

“Maybe, but it’s more likely that you move on when they want to make you permanent and add you to a payroll. And none of your aliases will support that, and you don’t want them to find out that you are under age and wanted for attempted bank robbery.”

Darcy pins a look to him, and he sees the moment where fear turns to challenge by the rise in her eyebrows, “Attempted, but not successful.”

“And murder.”

“Wasn’t me,” she bites off, “Wrong Lewis. That’s my sister making me take the fall.”

“So you either move along, or you’ve washed out for gross insubordination. One of your last employers said you were a smart ass. Another said smart mouth.”

“Sounds like me. Either one mention that they were abusing the animals? Rodeo is one thing, but cruelty is another. Ain’t gotta starve the horses, and those shows I was sharing with, that’s just mean to the animals.”

“The key word we were looking in there is smart.” Darcy raises her head, thrusts her chin out, like no one has ever called her smart before, and maybe they haven’t. “Can’t join the army, and do you really want to be doing this for the rest of your life?”

“What else am I gonna do, suit?” but she’s interested, sits instead of pacing, “Ran away with my sister when I was thirteen from the group home, only real thing I can do is trick shoot and fail to rob banks. I do that real well.”

“Agent Phil Coulson. How are you with a gun?”

“Not as good as I am with a bow, Phil,” she considers, “but close.” a grin slowly grows on her face as he tells her just what they can offer a seventeen year old girl with improbable aiming skills. “Just one question, Phil before I sign on the dotted line. Can I get an ipod?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy, I don't give a damn about my bad reputation.
> 
> Everyone clamored for more from the [twisted!au](http://archiveofourown.org/works/548729/chapters/1025613) prompt fic from last week. Then I saw that Annie Oakley picture on tumblr and really couldn’t help myself. I’m very, very sorry. This is my first rodeo, I swear.
> 
> If you like the twisted au, you can always request and prompt more from it at [ my tumblr](twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	44. Bucky & Darcy & Steve, Star Trek

“Okay, so let me get these all straight,” Steve says seriously, looking over the television display, “The first one is from the late 60’s, has a playboy adventurist as the Captain, spawned tons of movies—

“One with whales. I like that one.” Bucky says, and Darcy looks at him with a ‘really?’ expression, “What, Natasha and Clint were watching it the other day. She gets a kick out of nuclear wessels.”

“Then you’ve got the French captain with a British accent, but I guess it’s the future, who knows anymore, and he’s got the robot who wants to be human, and there are fashion choices even I know are wrong, and movies that really vary on quality.”

“Then there’s the one that’s not on a ship, but on a space station, and the writers suddenly discovered politics, and they took the best underdeveloped characters from the second and made them very sad all the time.” Bucky continues with a little bit of boredom in his voice.

“I’m pretty sure that was just O’Brien that couldn’t catch a break,” Darcy points out.

“They killed the guy with the foreheads wife and turned her into a brand new person. That’s pretty sad.” Steve explains patiently.

“Fair point. Continue.”

Steve picks it back up, “Then there’s the one with the really bad joke of a woman captain getting lost in space, and they always seemed to have everything they needed, except for plot purposes. I felt disappointed by that one.”

“We all did.” Darcy agrees, “Such a premise, so much wasted holodeck time.”

“Then the last show went back to the beginning, and no one appreciated it, but it was pretty good, with character’s choices being hard to make. But that last episode….”

“I’m going to quote Tony here and say that the last episode sucked donkey balls.” Bucky interrupts, “And then the latest movie screwed everything up and now everything starts over.”

“Exactly!” Darcy claps her hands, “And that, my chronologically deprived friends, is the the collected works of Star Trek. Now, how much of Doctor Who do you guys want to watch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Darcy/bucky/steve watching star trek


	45. Clint/Darcy, shopping

It’s just supposed to be a quick run out, grab the science van, because Jane’s settled in for the night, but if they want actual food for breakfast tomorrow, and not just the gas stations best approximation of fruit? Darcy’s going to have to hit up the Wal-Mart a few towns over. It was just supposed to be that, but the van hadn’t been that great to begin with, and apparently running a guy that was pretty much made of pure amazingly dense muscle wasn’t all that good for it, because of course that’s when it breaks down.

So it’s like, two in the morning and the stars are beautiful, she forgot to charge her phone, and kicking the tires of the piece of shit isn’t doing anything to fix it. She’s hesitant to leave the van and start walking; partially for her own safety but also because Jane would get pissed off if any of her equipment got grabbed when it was left alone.

She’s sitting on top of the roof, her feet dangling over the side nervously, with only the emergency blinkers going for light. It’s a little chilly, but that’s keeping her awake and watching the roads. Two cars have passed her and she’s preparing her words to decry civility in this day and age if this next one doesn’t stop.

But the car pulls over, and the guy that steps out is at least capable looking, even if his car is blaring 80’s pop music. He squints at her before saying loudly, “Need some help?”

“Do you know cars?” she calls down.

“Not as well as I’d like.” he admits, “Mostly how to hotwire them when my partner hides my keys. She thinks it’s funny.”

“She sounds like both a hoot and a holler.” Darcy grumbles, “How about a phone then?” The guy checks his pockets, pulls out two and throws one up to Darcy, “Awesome, I can wake my boss up and have her bring the RV out.”

“You’re going to make Dr Foster move the RV?” The guy half-teases, and Darcy freezes because what the hell, she didn’t say who she worked for, and she can finally make out government plates on the guys car, and that he’s in a partial jack booted thug uniform.

“You work for SHIELD don’t you?” She whines, and the guy introduces himself as Agent Barton, ma’am, real nice to meet you, I’m here to escort Dr Selvig to a different facility. It’s really just her luck that she gets someone she can sorta trust to pick her up on the side of the road and that she really doesn’t want to talk to. Because really, getting back their stuff was a nightmare in paperwork.

She says as much and the guy just laughs, “Ms Lewis, I promise you, I try to avoid paperwork as much as possible.” Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad. She motions for him to come up and join her on the top of the van as he calls in for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Clint/Darcy, Shopping


	46. Darcy/Steve, conversations in stairwells

Steve still doesn’t know what to do with women if he’s not outright just working with them. They don’t follow the rules he remembers, they have new ones that don’t make sense. They will at some point, he reassures himself, because he’s a quick study at most things and he’ll be able to pick up the patterns. But this, this is an old-fashioned problem that he knows he’s supposed to be able to handle.

He’s usually the only one who takes the stairs at SHIELD HQ, mostly people preferring elevators, are in the stairs only for moments to move between one floor and the next, or are Hawkeye, who he thinks gives tours to tiny junior agents of the maintenance ductwork and catwalks. He usually doesn’t encounter anyone when he’s taking the steps two at a time in a last ditch effort to work out the energy that hums through him now.

He nearly trips over Darcy where she’s balled up between floors ten and eleven, mascara that he hadn’t even realized she wore running into dark circles under her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he tries to apologize, only polite after all.

“Not your fault. Really, pin the blame somewhere else.” She replies, her voice hitching. She’s trying to keep it from wavering but it’s clear that Steve’s presence isn’t helping at all. He doesn’t know her very well, an outlier that he sees with Thor and Dr Foster from time to time. He’s not even sure why she’s here. She’s normally at the mansion when she’s around.

But he should say something, right? “You okay?” Next time, maybe he won’t say something so obvious. Darcy lifts her head to roll her eyes and says it’s nothing. His mouth rambles before he can think, “Liar. What happened?”

“Noth-” she starts, but she looks at him and her face twists up, “It’s stupid and I need to get over it. It’s just, I’m not very good at the physical stuff, you know? Oh god, your face, not like that, they invited me to try to test into the Agent training program.”

That makes more sense, “Today was the first day, wasn’t it?”

“I hated gym class, with everyone trying to compete with each other. It makes me nervous and they had me try to climb a wall and it didn’t go well and I fell when my hands got all sweaty, and I can’t stand people laughing at me.” she quickly says, starting under her breath but as she gets going, she evens out and even laughs at the end.

Steve still doesn’t know how to talk to women, but he does know a thing or two about people laughing at him, and he really wants to fix this, because Darcy should not be crying in the stairwell, “I could help. Climbing isn’t too hard, but they’ll test you on it again in front of people. Could show off next time?”

“Don’t get mad, get even?” Darcy perks up, “Why, Cap, that’s a sentiment I can get behind. “

“Meet me in the gym at 5, then.”

She uncurls herself, leans up to kiss him on the cheek, “It’s a date.” and she takes to the stairs quickly, as if she doesn’t want to see him stammering that that wasn’t what he meant by that at all. He’s never going to get a hang of these new rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy/Steve, either rat-trap motels, conversations in stairwells, poker games


	47. Coulson & Darcy, twinkies

Darcy’s impossibly tiny but how did you manage to luck into this place, no really, is it rent-controlled apartment is filled with piles. In the kitchenette (“ha, like I’m actually ever here to cook!” Coulson can hear her say, not like he’s ever at his own place) are filled and taped up boxes, with neat shipping labels in green and blue. Over by what some people would call the living space are empties and in front of Darcy herself, cross-legged on her bed are neat little rows of Twinkies.

“Miss Lewis?” He asks, letting himself in, “You called in today without a reason. We were concerned.”

Her tongue pokes out through her lips, idle concentration as she selects five of the sweets and packages them up.

“Miss Lewis, is there a reason your apartment looks like the back room of the local corner store?”

Darcy looks up and blinks, “I may have lucked into receiving a flat of Twinkies shortly after news broke that Hostess was closing and selling the brands off.” she tapes the box shut and slaps two labels on the front. “I also may have gotten a little over my head with economic theories of supply and demand.”

Coulson looms over her, takes the box from her hands and she points to the kitchen, “Ebay?” he asks.

“Mostly. Some on Craigslist too. Sorry for taking a personal day but I’m a little overwhelmed and the postal pickup comes in a couple of hours.” she looks out over the piles, “Eight hundred bucks though, after expenses. Totally worth it. And you know what the best part is bossman?”

Coulson rolls his eyes dramatically. He can’t help it, Darcy could bring that out in anyone, “What part would that be?”

“Hostess may be no more, but they’ll have to sell the assets. Which means, the Twinkie will be back, just owned and operated by someone else. All this is for nothing except my profit and people’s panic about horrible snack cakes. Wanna help?”

It’s Coulson’s lunch break, and he spots a couple packages of the powdered doughnuts that mysterious appear on his desk on hard and long days, so he perches on the edge of the bed to reach over and grab an empty box for her to fill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt was random darcy pairing with twinkies/hostess products. I think I need professional help. Inspired by a friend and his business practices.


	48. Clint/Darcy, women

“Have you ever noticed that all the women we know are just scary?” Darcy mutters just loud enough for Clint to hear. He stares at her, “Okay, maybe they seem normal to you, but to those here in semi-normal land? All of them, bad ass fucking women.”

“I will grant you Natasha, Hill and Sif, because she’s probably the scariest woman in existence,” Clint offers back, “But Pepper? Jane?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you limiting your notion of badassery to just the ability to make people dead?”

Clint shrugs, shifts uncomfortably in the hard plastic seat, “You really want to have this conversation in the middle of the airport?”

“The flight is delayed 4 hours so far, peaches, I am going to have all the conversations. So you might as well prepare for about 3 of those to be about Jane and her willful and amazing pursuit of science, because it won’t take long for you to admit it about Pepper.”

Clint looks her over, drops his head onto her shoulder and swinging his legs over to the next set over, “Story-time, I can dig.” He tilts his head up, digging into her shoulder, “But be fair-warned, when we got on that plane? I am going to be extolling your virtues. Possibly to the other passengers. Loudly and without reservation.”

Darcy responds, running her fingers through his hair, by starting her lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy, women
> 
> hey look, I had time to do a prompt after my brain died from terrorism insurance.


	49. Darcy/Steve, men

Darcy’s never been much of a cuddler. She’s always got too much energy running through her. Her leg shakes, she squirms, she can’t get comfortable. And well, she’s in her early twenties and none of the guys she’s been with have minded that she’s not reveling in the afterglow. Or sticking around much later either. She can’t cuddle and she certainly can’t fall asleep with all that noise in her body.

That comes crashing down spectacularly because Steve is the king of taking it slow. If she were a less kind person, she’d call it glacial out loud. She is a kind person, so she keeps that to herself. At this rate, she might get laid in a few months.

But, it’s not bad, it’s just weird. It’s weird to have dates that stop at the front door, weird that it takes several of them before she can urge him inside for better kisses. Every step takes forever but she’s finding that she’s touch starved and every inch of propriety she strips from Steve is a victory.

The first night she falls asleep against his, okay, incredibly amazing and broad chest (she didn’t know they made them that…great) and she wakes up before dawn starts to break, Steve’s arms closed around her.

Darcy expects her body to start its quest for movement, start it’s incessant need for release. But instead, she relaxes into the feeling of firm skin and stubble against the top of her head. She feels still for the first time in her life, and falls back into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Darcy/Steve, men


	50. Darcy/Steve, body glitter

“Can you believe this getup that Pepper dragged me into?” Darcy turns, almost achingly slow, the hem of her deep blue dress flaring around her ankles.

Steve really can’t, because as she turns her back, the expanse of her bare skin, the dip of the back as close to obscene as he can think of. “Do that again,” he smiles voice just a little think, and Darcy ducks her head with an uncharacteristic blush. She turns, slower and now the light catches on her skin, and she shines, flakes of glitter reflect and shimmer.

“It’s so weird, I know,” Darcy starts, and Steve is finding that his breath comes out bare, “But Pepper was like, let’s show something else off for a change and…Steve?”

“You look great.” he manages to say and Darcy gets a screwy amused look on her face as she realizes he’s been staring.

“Anyone teach you to dance yet?” she asks, and he shakes his head, “Well, you don’t really know how to do the good old junior high clutch and sway.”

If the dance is any indication, he’s going to be following her lead for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Darcy/Steve (body) glitter
> 
> I haven't had a whole lot of free time in the past week to write; I was busy studying for an insurance designation, which I took and passed this week. The next update to _at night we walk in our houses and burn_ is outlined and underway. I have free time and a life again. Which really means I have no life because I sit at my laptop and write fanfic.


	51. Clint/Darcy, pillows

“I can’t go out tonight. My bed is full of books.” Darcy says far too seriously for the words that actually just came out of her mouth, “If I don’t do something soon about this, I’m going to have papercuts everywhere.”

Clint has this tell whenever he thinks Darcy has just stepped an inch closer to the deep end, and his eye twitches, one quick wink.

“I feel asleep on top of New Oxford Book of English Verse a couple of nights ago. It does not make for a nice pillow. Sleeping on a bed of books, letting Shakespeare be your blanket makes for a romantic image but it really isn’t practical.” Darcy continues.

“All I’m really hearing is why we can’t go to your place tonight. Is there something wrong with my place?” Clint asks, letting a hand smooth out a wrinkle on Darcy’s sweater, as much of a public display as he can get away with while sitting on her desk.

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you wanted to go out.” Darcy’s eyes go wide and playful, “Unless you wanted to help me with my books. That could be fun.” Clint is dubious about this, in his experience, most actual paper books have never lead to fun. They lead to school and boring. “I’ve sorting them out and that means book fort.”

Darcy smiles as her eyes dart around, and she leans in close, “Book fort, Barton. Come make fortifications with me. Sweet, sweet fortifications.”

Clint really has to kiss her for that. Quick and promising, just short enough so that her co-workers in Analytics won’t see, long enough to be an answer to her plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Clint/Darcy Pillows  
> I really don’t know how a prompt of pillows lead to this. My brain, everyone.
> 
> Also, I highly encourage the building of book forts when organizing your library. Fiction versus Nonfiction is a good start.


	52. Clint/Darcy, children's picture books

"These are for your niece?” Clint asks, flicking through a stack of picture books that Darcy is wrapping one by one in bright paper. With ribbons and bows, all different and intricate.

“Yeah, she’s the only little kid in the family, and now that I have a real person job, I felt like splurging. And I can’t make it home for Christmas, and I’m blaming you for that, because I’m on call.” She stares at Clint from her chair, like it’s his fault that Coulson took the holiday off and left her in charge of the SHIELD trainees. And okay, it might be. “And I figured, she can open one big box of books, or she can feast her eyes on thirty presents.”

Darcy’s grin can light up a room, particularly when it’s twinged with deviousness. It’s a very good look on her, but he keeps looking through the books.

“Some of these are really...creepy.”

“Kids like to be scared.” Darcy comments, and looks over at the book Clint has open, “There are wolves in the walls, and everyone says, if the wolves come out of the walls, it’s all over.”

“I don’t remember liking being scared,” Clint mumbles, dropping his voice at the last moment, but the words fall out. Darcy reads his face, his biting lips, all the things that don’t need to be said over, because the past is written on his body and in every step.

“I bet you didn’t,” she says quietly after a moment, “But with a book, you control it, and it comes to an end. The wolves go back in the walls and if you want to feel that little bit of fear? You can open the book.” She stops wrapping and leans her head against his hip before kissing him through the fabric of his tshirt.

“My wolves lived with me,” its more a statement than anything else. His wolves lived with him and he couldn’t close the pages on his father and make him go away.

“There’s some happy ones in there too. You’d like the Pigeon books. I think you’d get along quite well birdbrain.” she smiles, lips pressed against his side again, hand reaching around him in an embrace that could be awkward for the height difference between standing and sitting. But it’s Darcy, so he just keeps reading with one hand to turn the pages and the other idly stroking her cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Clint/Darcy, Children's picture books
> 
> I RESTRAINED MYSELF HERE. If my major did specializations, mine would have been literary criticism of Children’s Lit. Also known as “How to ruin classic picture books for your friends and family.”


	53. Bucky/Darcy/Steve, christmas cuddling by fire

“Hey guess what?” Darcy bounces into the room, dropping her coat, scarf and a cloth bag behind her on her way over to the couch. Two heads roll back to look at her as she jumps over the back to land pretty much on top of them. Before they get a chance to respond, she stuffs a hand down each of their shirts, her hand pressed flat against their back.

“Good lord, woman!” Bucky yelps and squirms away from her freezing hand, “What were you doing?” On the other side, Steve grins and leans into the touch. The two of them are a study in contrasts in how they deal when Darcy gets impulsive.

“It’s cold outside,” Darcy states as she turns her hand to warm the other side, “And I happen to keep two furnaces in the shape of hot men around.”

“We have a perfectly good fireplace, you don’t have to use us.” Bucky mutters, “Now I’m getting cold.”

“You are not allowed to talk, Mister cold metal on my tits in the middle of the night.” Darcy accuses and accepts a kiss in pseudo-apology.

“What were you doing out? It’s Christmas.” Steve says, gently removing her hand.

“Oh right,” Darcy gets back up, and she knows she’s being flighty and hyper, but it’s Christmas and she has the right to be a little silly. She walks over and picks up her bag. “I know we decided to not really do gifts, but I couldn’t help myself.” 

She gives them each a small stocking, and they laugh when they realize they are full of candy and clementines.

“I don’t know if it was true for you guys, but my grandmother said that her stocking was always full of penny candy and oranges, And well, did the best I could.” Darcy shrugs. Steve pulls her down and settles her against him, and Bucky gives her a Tootsie Roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Can you do Christmas at the Tower with Bucky/Steve/Darcy cuddling by the fire?"


	54. Bucky/Darcy,  boy bands

“No, please stop.” Bucky buries his head in his crossed arms on the table, “I don’t care, this is torture.”

“No, freezer-burn, this is totally part of your cultural education.” Darcy hovers her hand over the play button on the CD player, “You can’t appreciate modern music without going to the roots, of course. But you’ve probably heard at least some of the roots having been thawed every so often, so we’re working the middles.”

She presses play on her old cd, hasn’t even bothered to rip it to itunes yet, “Now, when you can tell me which boy band this is, just shout it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: bucky/darcy boy bands  
> (this is where I started worrying about the sanity of my anon's)


	55. Clint/Darcy, Bucky Bear

The door opens with a creak, and whoever is walking in does not understand the concept of stealth. Heavy, playful footsteps that don’t fit the mood Clint has found himself in.

“Ugh where is it?” Darcy says from the room Phil used an as office, “I swear he told me before, before that it was here, and who is going through all of this?” she doesn’t speak loudly, or at least she wouldn’t be if her earbuds weren’t in place. Clint’s pretty sure she’s heading for some hearing damage, because he can hear the music from them. And he’s only just entered the room.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, and when Darcy turns around it’s like her heart is about to come out of her throat and on the floor. A pile of papers and books drop to the floor and her hand moves up to her collarbone, “Fuck Barton, scared me.”

“What are you looking for?” he repeats,

“I um, look, I’m working though Agent Coulson’s, um, desk and I’m trying…” Darcy is quickly pulling out her buds and she looks defeated, “And he told me once that he kept a second copy of a thing in his apartment and…” her eyes are a little hazy and wet around the edges.

“Yeah, I’m doing the same, just with his personal stuff.” Clint admits shrugging and Darcy suddenly is having a hard time keeping a laugh from escaping.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this isn’t something to laugh at but —” she points at his hands, and apparently when he moved from packing up the bedroom, he didn’t take the time to put down whatever it was he was working on.

He laughs looking at the stuffed bear he’s been carrying, “He was a collector, I wish I could have seen his face when…” he sighs, holds up the bear, “they made these when he was a kid, you know? Cap was a lion, and Phil had Bucky Bear. His was ruined as a kid, but I found this for him a few years ago in a marketplace in Turkey, of all places.”

Darcy softens, comes a little closer and takes the bear from him, “You were a good friend,” she says, pressing her fingers against the snout, “I swear, he was only my boss for a few months, but….” her lip move like a wave as she tears up, “I’m a stupid mess.”

“No, no, not at all,” He doesn’t actually know Darcy that well. Coulson spoke of her in bits and pieces, about the intern he picked up after New Mexico, that she was an absolute terror and probably would never shut up, and she has already brought the accounting unit to their knees after they did not understand that “reply all” should never be used, ever.

He envies her ability to wear this emotion, and to mourn, so he does what he can, and pulls her into his side. It’s awkward, but she breathes and curls in.

“I can, um” her breath hitches as she struggles to control herself, “I could help you out, if you’ll help me. If you’d like the company.” And yeah, he’d like the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Clint/Darcy, bucky bear   
> I’m fairly certain whoever asked this wanted something humorous. I’m sorry, but you should know better.
> 
> You can keep up with me, request prompts, whatever at [](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com>%20my%20tumblr</a>)


	56. Darcy, gen, headcanon: Darcy as Black Widow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little explaining on this one. minicheesecakes after seeing my twisted au, asked for Darcy as Black Widow, Natasha as intern. 
> 
> I found that I couldn't get it fleshed out as I like to do even for prompts, but I did do a little headcanon reply. If you like this, go roll with it.

She lives her life in a series of bold moves, bold thoughts and loud noises. Other agents swear by stealth, by distance, even one that clings to a bow like a dog with a bone (and if she loved, she’d love Hawkeye, if for nothing else, pulling her out of her old life). They expect her to play on perceptions of vulnerability, the way she did when she was used before. Peddle her skills with her tits and cute looks, but that’s not Darcy anymore. She’s going to make her life on being invulnerable

She won’t hide in shadows and if she’s going to still be a spy and assassin, it’s going to be on her terms.


	57. Darcy & Thor, like brother and sister

04

Jan. '13  
prompt fic: Darcy & Thor, brother

“Are you sulking around again?” Darcy says, seemingly to the air. But there’s loud footsteps around the corner and if there was any look to Thor that could be called sheepish, this would be it.

“I require your assistance, dear Darcy.” he announces, because that what Thor does. He doesn’t say anything, because that does not fully convey the sheer enormity of his voice and presence. She’s finally helped him figure out proper modes of address, which helps him get through the more day to day aspects of living on Earth. Outside of his armor, he is of course, amazingly built. But there are lots of cut, beautiful men out there, and while he will never blend in, he’s just another remarkable person.

The second glances on the street aren’t because he’s Thor, god of thunder, Avenger, but because he’s a hottie.

And right now, it’s a sheepish looking Thor holding out an actual hairbrush and tie at her. He’s been letting his hair grow long, and apparently, Jane is inept at braiding hair. Darcy ends up having to scramble to a higher chair, because even sitting on the floor, she’d have to reach up too high to be comfortable. He sits down with a dopey grin, and Darcy has to laugh in complaint when she starts by combing her fingers through his hair.

“It’s really not fair. Do all you have supermodel hair?” she knows what’s bugging him is the front layers, the way they hang in his face, and she pulls them back.

“I do not understand. This is the hair I have always had.” Thor tilts his head to the side to think, and Darcy has to push it back up.

“No, Thor, Warrior Prince, I mean, you have great hair. Sif has amazing hair. I’m sure the Warriors Three also have epic hair. I didn’t check, I was too busy freaking out a little bit.” she says as she divides his hair into sections, “What sort of hair care do you use in Asgard?”

Thor tries to tilt his head again and Darcy once again forces his head back upright. “I don’t know Darcy, I wash with whatever has been made available for my use.”

Darcy huffs out a laugh, because of course he has no idea. He has servants for that. She finishes the plait quickly.

“Darcy, why did you call me Warrior Prince? You have told me that using titles is not acceptable Midgardian behavior, and yet this is not the first time you have called me that.”

“Okay, big guy, we’re totally having a Xena marathon. You are going to love her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Thor and Darcy, just the two of them, being all brother and sister like. We don't get enough just Thor and Darcy being friendly/family without others being involved (ie Jane or one of the guys for Darcy)
> 
> I agree. Inspired by the on-set photo's with Thor's mighty pretty braid.


	58. Darcy/Steve, First Time

“I’m more saying that my understanding of this part of the process is more, theoretical than practical.” Darcy says nervously, because you really don’t know how someone is going to react when you lay down the yes-i’m-in-my-twenties v-card, even if said someone is probably the nicest guy in the whole world, and a literal throwback to the 1940’s.

“I’m sure you can pick it up as we go along,” Steve grins, “But that’s entirely up to you.” that’s easy coming from the guy that just got her off in a spectacular fashion, and she can feel the fine sheen of sweat on her body that’s half nerves and half cardiovascular workout. She’s not sure what she expected, more fumbling, more awkward, but Steve has pulled her apart the way he approaches everything, methodical and sure of his own abilities (if not his own body).

It’s been too long since she’s been at this precipice, naked and making this choice, so she stalls, running her hands up his thighs and ass. He curls into her, a satisfying sigh as he leaves purposefully sloppy and wet kisses on her neck and shoulder.

“You make it very hard to make a rational decision here, handsome.” she laughs, his hands on her waist, his lips on her neck, and its not like she wants to say no, because, oh god, really? It’d be downright unpatriotic. It’s just new and there’s not any going back.

“Mmm-hmm,” his hands graze up her sides, his thumbs running over the curve of her breasts as she takes a deep breath. “I’ve been told I’m reasonably good at practical applications.”

“When did you have time for that?” she asks, her voice choked off and dark.

“Here and there, before and after. I have a hard time talking to women,” and boy, that was the truth at that first meeting, but it improved quickly. “This,” Steve pauses for effect and she gasps when he takes her breasts in his hands, “I can do.”

“Yeah, you sure can.” and makes a most delightful noise when she takes him in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Something I haven't seen that I'd like to. Steve Roger (avengers time line), first time het. But he is not the virgin. It's be interesting to see what he'd be like as the knowledgeable one.
> 
> It's seriously cute that people keep thinking I can write smut. My face blushes, guys.


	59. Clint/Darcy, strawberries

“No really, take your time.” Clint is a straight up bitch sometimes, “It’s not like there’s any other place we have to be.”

“I’m sorry, I want a long breakfast, we’ve been on the road for days. I finally got to sleep in a bed and not the back seat of a sedan, and the hotel has a wafflemaker.” Darcy shakes her fork at Clint, ” And strawberries. Strawberries, bird-brain, local ones. Not just the ones in syrup.”

“You’ve got powdered sugar on your nose.” He sighs, and busies himself with a bowl of cereal and grabs a couple of wrapped muffins.

Darcy wipes her face with a napkin, “How much longer do we have to go?”

“To get you back to New Mexico? Half a day, maybe. Longer if you don’t hurry up.” For someone that’s bound to be driving for the better part of a day, he sure is whining a lot.

“Slow down, ten more minutes won’t kill you. Jane can wait.” she holds out one of the cleaned and trimmed strawberries, “Here, enjoy.”

Clint takes a second to look at his full hands, and back over at Darcy, “Ten minutes, huh?” he says, before leaning over and taking the fruit with his teeth, his tongue ghosting the tips of her fingers.

“You are incorrigible, Barton.”

“Hurry up and get in the car, Lewis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Clint/Darcy, oranges or strawberries


	60. Clint/Darcy, Disney movies

She’s only got two modes of dress; oversized sweaters and sweatshirts, blankets and flannel lined jeans because she’s perpetually freezing and the chill of New Mexico only made it worse; and then it’s long line tank tops that stretch to the expanse of her chest and just barely hug at her waist, tiny shorts that shouldn’t be allowed outside their set of rooms. She runs hot the moment another person has skin on her.

But she steals the heat straight from his bones, so Clint makes Darcy deal with a blanket over her bare legs and her soft and smooth stomach, her cheek against his chest and he can’t stop himself from kissing the top of her head. She’s half asleep on top of him by a third of the way through Lion King, and it’s a nice enough background noise that he doesn’t turn it off as she nods on and off.

It’s the quietest Saturday afternoon in a long time, enforced downtime when he’s only slightly bandaged and bruised. There’s not been a time where Darcy has seen him without a stitch, a bruise, holes and wounds. She’s never seen him when he’s in full health, he can’t remember the last time for himself either. But he feels right and whole with his arms around her, the sure retreat of hot skin, thick hair, and her perfume, spicy sweet ginger. He holds her a little bit tighter, splays his fingers against whatever he can find.

She stirs and stretches against him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he answers back, quiet and a little gruff.

“You okay?” she says into his chest, her hand and her breath moving against the hair there.

“Yeah.” he replies, “Go back to sleep.”

“Wasn’ sleeping,” she murmurs with a yawn, “listenin’. Hearts still beating there.”

“Keeping it that way.” he agrees, and he still can’t resist another kiss as she nods off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt(s): Two requests for Clint and Darcy watching disney movies


	61. Bucky & Darcy & Steve, kids being bullied

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this newsreel.” Darcy says, stopping suddenly in front of back alley. The kid isn’t the same sort of small, not the same sort of scrappy but he’s got a smart mouth and keeps talking back to the larger boy beating his ass.

Steve and Bucky are a step ahead and lean back to see the kid get shoved against the bricks. The boys are quick on their feet and Darcy hangs back to walk slowly behind them, rolling her eyes with a grin.

Sometimes she’s so blinded by all these superheroes she hangs out with that she forgets that they are impressive. It’s in the back of her head, because they hang out with her and she never thinks of herself as impressive. But her boys are like, twenty feet tall and half as wide with muscles that most people have forgotten they have in their bodies.

The so-called big kid looks up at their shout and runs for it, probably the smartest thing he’ll do all day. The other kid falls to his ass, and draws his knees up as Bucky approaches him.

“You okay kid?” Bucky asks holding out a hand. Kid looks up through a swollen eye clearly taking in the fact that the hand is a prosthetic, “Hey, I’ve been helping skinny kids up my entire life, it’s not going to stop now.”

“I feel like I should offended by that,” Steve mutters, letting Darcy catch up and offering his arm.

“You probably should be, I was mostly picking you up.”

“Does it look like I’m alright?” the boy takes Bucky’s outstretched hand and gets up to his feet, “Yells at me for acting too proud of myself. Punches me when I say that I am actually better than he is.” He looks over at Steve, “He doesn’t look like he’s ever needed the help.”

“Looks are deceiving,” Darcy laughs.

Steve looks over the boy, can’t be more than fourteen. He’d say that he’s out late, but he remembers wanting to be away from home at night too, “Some advice? You might not be like me and you might stay skinny your entire life, but you should never stay small.”

He cocks his head back at Steve, and there’s a little glimmer of recognition, not enough to say anything, but he’s a little more unsure in his voice, “Yeah, I can see how that could work.” He runs off, each step gaining a little more in strength and speed.

“You guys done?” They start walking back out of the alley, “Just be glad you aren’t girls. Girl fights are far more vicious and hardly so out in the open.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: left in comment by AriGriffen: Steve/Bucky/Darcy -- kids being bullied


	62. Clint/Darcy, Twisted AU, deep fried

“You spend a lot of time here,” Clint says, narrowing his eyes at Darcy.

“You guys have a deep fryer.” She says back, trying to keep down the panic in her voice, because for fucks sake, she’s an agent for an almost-secret covert ops agency, a sniper and if she is allowed to toot her own horn, a goddamn hero and badass after New York. “And I’m pretty handy with a knife and a sack of potatoes.” She is totally not panicking because this guy she likes has finally noticed that she doesn’t actually belong in Dr Foster’s lab for really any appropriate reason.

Oogling the eye-candy (and between Thor and nerdy-but-hot Clint Barton, there’s plenty) can’t be her only excuse.

“Jane doesn’t eat enough,” he says like its a secret, “but she’ll eat anything deep fried if it’s put in front of her.”

“Okay,” and she knows she has a way in now. Because it’s really ridiculous the way that she’s harbored a crush like a pre-teen figuring out that she has feelings, and that she didn’t say anything when they were both in New Mexico and bummed cigarettes off each other on the roof one night, “I can help. With that. I know a lot of things that can be deep fried. It’s all in the batter, really.”

When Clint smiles, it’s crooked and open, and she can see a harder life than he lets on, one that has a reason that he’s finishing up undergrad in his thirties. Darcy would do an awful lot for that smile.  
*  
“So your plan now is to, what, serve him calorie-laden battered items in hope that he falls into a food coma and will agree to your advances?” Natasha stretches fully out, soft pops and cracks of a well-used body settling into place.

“Um…” Darcy replies.

“And how is this preferable to just talking to him and asking him out?”

“Um.” Darcy kicks at a bag of groceries that she just bought, “Because I might not have to actually say anything like ‘I like your face?’ because we both know that I can’t. That involves words coming out in the right order. There’s a reason you are up-close girl, and I’m five buildings away with a stand and scope.”  
*  
“What did you bring this time?” Clint asks, looking over the pile of food that Darcy has brought over. “Any pickles? I’ve had deep fried pickles?”  
“No, because those are disgusting.” Darcy starts preparing a batter, “I figured I’d start with the basics. Chicken —I’m crap at the real kind, but tenders I can do, a bunch of veggies. We can pretend it’s healthy that way, and tempura batter. For dessert, apples and pears.”

“Pears?” Clint looks dubious, “Deep fried pears?”

Darcy smiles, “They are delicious with ice cream.”

“Everything’s delicious with ice cream.” Oh yeah, Clint Barton is just her type of guy, this is not fair at all.

The week after that it’s Oreos and cheesecake, a mess of onion rings and ways to make healthy vegetables not very healthy anymore. Shrimp and the generic snack cake that has replaced Twinkies. They don’t like tofu much, but she experiments with Pop-Tarts and it’s the best thing ever.

“So how long are we going to keep doing this before…“ Clint’s voice falters before he looks up from where he’s chopping up potatoes. French fries are a staple food, shut up. “There’s funnel cake?” someone should tell him that he shouldn’t wave a fucking knife around like that, it’s unsafe. He could poke somebody’s eye out with that thing. Or their spleen.

Darcy knows how to make funnel cake. You don’t spend that much time in that many carnivals, circuses and rodeos and not know how to make funnel cake, “We can do it now, grab me some eggs.”

Clint shakes his head, “Actually, I meant. No, forget it, it’s a long shot anyways.”

“I make long shots for a living, spit it out, nerd-boy.” She sighs, smiling at him. He’s so…well, pretty isn’t the right term, but when Clint’s flustered his neck blushes and not his cheeks, and it’s just stupid how hot that is. Natasha’s right, she has it bad and she should really just get over herself.

Clint starts words a couple of times, and then stands up straighter like he’s resolved himself in bravery, “How long are you going to keep coming over here and feeding me without one of us realizing we’re dating.” He pauses, “Or that we are having a really unhealthy threesome with the deep fryer. I’m not ruling either out.”

Darcy can feel her jaw drop and inarticulate sounds come out and it’s really embarrassing and she squeaks, “Dating?” she coughs and clears her throat, trying to play it off as cool, “I mean, yeah, we can consider this dating.”

Which is all the permission Clint needs to put down the knife and kiss the daylights out of her. It’s true what they say, Darcy thinks, putting down the potato in her hand, the way to a man’s heart is through Jane Foster’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, symbioticdeath bribed with fic for me to continue on with my twisted!au where Darcy is the archer-sniper, rodeo queen, and Clint’s a nontraditional student intern with Dr Foster.
> 
> This fic is also dedicated to my deep fryer, the (current) second love of my life.


	63. Clint/Darcy, waffles

Darcy has to take stock of where she is that morning. She doesn’t make a habit of waking up in places other than her own bed, but hell, she was already not in her shitty DC apartment. But it also wasn’t Thor and Jane’s guest room in their suite.  It’s not a guest room at all if she has to make a guess.  
  
Okay, checklist time:  
1\. **Did I drink last night?** Darcy checks her breath. It’s just standard dry morning breath, nothing to indicate she had too much last night.  
2\. **Where am I?** Bedroom. The curtains are open a bit and there is a fantastic view, similar to the one in the guest room, so still the Tower. That limits it down significantly.  
3\. **Clothes?** Well…not naked, but also no underwear.  
  
And hey, that’s when  she finishes waking up and the night comes back to her, and she has to pump her fist quietly to herself. She remembers a very close conversation with Clint and his warm hand sneaking up the back of her shirt while very much still in the common room where everyone was watching a movie.  
  
And she wouldn’t call it sneaking, but she didn’t have a better word for it   
early in the morning, but okay, sneaking up to his floor after everyone had drifted off to their own rooms, and calling him on his teasing and testing boundaries by pushing him to the wall and kissing him, parting just long enough to get her shirt off as he walked her to his bed.  
  
The bed she fell asleep in, and that’s distressingly empty. But, Darcy also remembers those warm hands, rough and well-used skimming her breasts, her sides and up her thighs and parting them.  
  
She burrows into the covers, just remembering, because somethings deserved to be savored and great sex is one of those things. She has to head back home to DC today, actual work to be done too early Monday morning, and there’s no such thing as a long weekend anymore.  
Everything has to stop eventually though, and she hears a pan drop from the kitchen, and she gets out of bed (and hey, she’s wearing a SHIELD workout t-shirt, totally going to try to steal that) and finds her panties on the nightstand before heading out to investigate.  
  
What she finds is Clint hovering over a wafflemaker and when he looks up because of her laughter he admits, “I haven’t actually used this yet, and I just burned my first attempt to the pan. Help?”  
  
Shaking her head, she searches for cooking spray, and lets him kiss her good morning, stale breath be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy, waffles.
> 
> let’s not discuss how a prompt of waffles turns into almost explicit smut, when I have actual smut prompts just sitting there waiting for inspiration. Just…I don’t even.


	64. Kate/Noh-varr; Clint, awkward

“Hey, uh, Kate?” Clint asks after the door closes.

She has to unattach her mouth from pretty-boy to answer, but he’s still figuring out her bra, so instructions have to be given anyways, “Evening Clint!” and then in a much softer voice, “It’s a front-clasp.”

Boys.

“Uh, girlie-girl, not that I don’t appreciate that you feel comfortable here in our Hawkeye Hangout, but this is my apartment.”

“You have a room, you should go to it.”

“You probably have several. Lots.”

Makeouts are much less fun when you have to be snarky to a disinterested third party, “Family. Oh hey, you got it. Good job!”

Clint is holding a hand over his eyes, whatever, she would totally be okay with peeking, “Hey, blondie, you got a place you can take her?”

Pretty-boy…oh what is his name, she’s so bad at names, everyone has so many, answers, “I…uh, yes. Yes I do. It’s a little far though.”

“If it means naked, I can wait a little bit. Come on.” she tugs back down her shirt and stands up and starts pulling something with an N (Noah?) with her, “Hawkeye, you are a mood-killer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is copperbadges fault. He said: Also I really want it to have been super-awkward, like Clint accidentally walked in on them when they were trying to make out at his place, and Kate’s place was out because THE ONE TIME her parents were home, which was why they had to go to space to have clumsy first-time superhero sex.
> 
> And I wanted that too, so I wrote it.


	65. Darcy/Steve, glasses

Sometimes, she doesn’t understand the gaps in Steve’s knowledge. He’s up to date on the military, is relatively conversant with technology (and Angry Birds is his stress relief. Oddly enough, he has a lot of stress), and above all, he has a grasp of how humans work. He gets them, and therefore he’s caught on to most of the last few decades.

But where he does have gaps, he has them. He’s picky about food, most everything that’s easy to cook is too sweet for his palette, restaurants are even worse unless they cart everything in fresh.

But Darcy understands that, he missed the biggest period of time of added vitamins and minerals, enrichment, taking out the fat and replacing it with sugar and high fructose corn syrup.

But when he asks, “Don’t your eyes get tired when you aren’t wearing your glasses?” she has to stop for a second.

“Well yeah,” she starts, “that’s what happen — you don’t mean when I take them off at night, you’re talking about the days where I wear my contacts.”

Steve furrows his brows, and it hits her that no ones bothered to explain the little things to him, the things that are literally invisible to the naked eye.

“You hadn’t noticed that there are a lot less people wearing glasses these days?”

Steve shrugs, a gesture that she’s learned means that he’s noticed it and just accepted it and moved on. He does a lot of that, she likes that, he’s adaptable.

“So, okay, yes, there are people who get surgery now to fix their eyesight, but that costs money and contacts and glasses are cheaper. Contacts are like a little lens that goes over your eye itself. I don’t always like to wear them, and some days I just don’t want to touch my eyes in the morning.”

Steve smiles slyly his breath heating up her neck, “So that’s why you’ll spend the day without them and in the morning you’ll put them on?”

Darcy closes the small distance between them, murmuring, “Also, it’s way easier to take glasses off when I need to.”

“You should take them off.” He smiles, pressing a small kiss to her lips, “There’s a need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Steve/Darcy, glasses


	66. Clint/Darcy, skeleton

She doesn’t take it lightly that there are 27 bones in the human hand and that they work together in understated complexity to do some as simple as hold another persons hand. Darcy stretches out her hand after so long holding Clint’s, each muscle moves to its limit before she relaxes and take his up again

She’ll fall asleep like this, curled up in a chair as close as she can get to the bed, the steady rhythm of the monitors lulling her to close her eyes and settle her head against his shoulder.

He’s woken up twice now, just brief moments where the painkillers let up just enough to break him through that thick wall. Each time, he’s uncertain in his awareness, but squeezes her hand, constricting the bones and sapping her warmth. She gives him water and he’ll swallow it down, trying to talk through a rough and dry throat.

“Shh, don’t worry about it,” she muses, running a finger down his face, over cracked lips and he kisses the tip and falls back asleep before he can finish. She has to smile as she moves her finger back, because if she didn’t, she’d cry.

So she waits, 27 bones wrapped around 27 bones, blood and muscle and skin and promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy, skeleton


	67. Coulson/Darcy, teacher/student

“Don’t flip your hair like you’re an airhead,” Coulson says everything with a straight face, so Darcy flips her hair again, “It’s unbecoming.”

“Am I supposed to be becoming something, agent?” Okay, it’s not like it’s her first time at the range with Phil. He’s brought her down after classes three weeks in a row. And if she’s not being brought into the range by Phil, it’s to the gym by Hill, or reviewing surveillance with Sitwell and she thinks she’s not supposed to know that the other “contractors” do not get the same treatment.

Or that she’s not supposed to know that it was Coulson’s turn to lead this years crops of could-be’s, not Jimenez, but she’s a better hacker than she lets on, things she’s hiding and she can cover her tracks.

“Or is there a way for me to flip my hair where I don’t look like an airhead?” she deadpans back, “Will you show me?”

She’s pretty sure the hand gesture he gives her isn’t supposed to be a fuck you but a will you just shoot the gun already. Pretty sure. Phil’s pretty good with the layered meanings.

Darcy isn’t a great shot, actually she’s sort of horrible, and while she’s hitting the target these days, this is where she thinks she’s going to flunk out before she ever gets started.

“You keep dropping your stance just before you actually fire.” Coulson says critically.

She tries to hold onto it but she feels her muscles and her body give way or tense, each going in different directions as she pulls the trigger to fire. It’s a little better than the last time. But Coulson gives her a little frown and puts a hand on her shoulder, surprisingly tentative for what should be a clinical touch.

But the thing is, it isn’t clinical, the pressure is in all the wrong places, rolls on her shoulder rather than just pressing, like he’s trying to get the lay of the land of her body. Even as his hands give way to instructional, talking loud enough to be heard over the ear protection, there’s something changed in the way he stands, a half inch too far away to be close, as if he doesn’t want to keep his distance.

He holds his hands there on her shoulders as she fires, keeping her from dropping and flinching. Two, three more times, until the action is in her muscle memory. There’s a little ledge that juts out from the railing, and she goes through the safety check quickly in putting down the firearm.

What little stealth she has, she uses and takes that half a step back, his hands jolting over her shoulders and brushing her collarbones as she makes contact with his chest. Take the bait, take the damn bait runs as mantra through her head, why else would you rearrange anything.

A blessed moment later, everything shifts as he guides her chin up and she meets his hand around her waist, committing the action to memory down to her bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Darcy/Coulson, teacher/student
> 
> This took me a long time to decide what to do with it. I have a hard time with teacher/student romantic stuff, because, well, my previous job and my husbands current job is in education. And just, no. This one incubated for awhile and came about at a warm up for a plot point in a larger fic I'm currently writing.


	68. Clint/Darcy, Reasonable Reservations

There’s reasons she carries a taser. But she’s never been comfortable with anything more than that. It’s why she doesn’t work for SHIELD even though they offered, and she went for more school instead. And there’s strike one, that she’s really only around every few months, checking in on featherbrained Jane. Dating someone that far away? It’s not impossible, but she’s not betting on such an unsure thing.

“Fuck,” she says, the drink in her system overwriting her good sense, “I’d say it’s not you it’s me, but it is you. I mean, what you do, I mean…fuck.” Clint goes dark and quiet,and that’s really not what she wanted to do. Why does he have to be so good? “I don’t know if I can get over the shooting people. It’s okay when I’m just your friend and your saving the day, but I know that’s not all you do and I know I can’t really deal with that.” She blinks and her mind is still blanking out on how to stop the words that are coming out of her mouth, “And like, what if we have an argument, you could have me killed. You could have Natasha come and hurt me, and she likes you way more than she likes me.”

She blinks again, “Oh fuck, was that out loud? Christ, Clint, I don’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’d do that, you’re too good. But….”

“I get it, I get it.” Clint signals the bartender and hands him cash for his tab before turning to go, “I’ll just go, okay.”

“Wait…wait.” Darcy spreads her hands out in front of her, and he turns his head around, “Maybe? Give me a day or two? I’ll try to sort myself out and have a real answer.”

Clint gives her that same not-quite smile and a steady nod and Darcy puts her head down on the bar, “Okay, lots more water. Lots and Lots…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Clint/Darcy, Darcy has reasonable reservations about dating an assassin. 
> 
> Which may be one of the best things to land in my inbox ever. This was going to be more comedic, but it didn't turn out that way. Oh well.


	69. Bucky/Darcy/Steve, the smell of rain (Explicit)

Steve doesn’t realize it’s a thing until he catches them for the third time, Bucky sitting against a planter to hold him upright and Darcy in his lap, chasing the breath out Bucky’s mouth. The concrete is still dark from the storm that just rolled past, and the ozone is still heavy in the air.

“I am fairly certain this is a place,” he rolls his eyes before looking down at them, “A sort of public space. You really want to do this here?”

Bucky breaks off the kiss and while Darcy kisses down the curve of his neck and makes eye contact, “Rooftop garden. Private access. If any —” Darcy rocks a little bit, her skirt riding up her bare legs, “Oh that’s good —anyone sees us, it’s cause they were looking too hard for us.”

“I found you.”

Darcy laughs and throws her head back. Her hair sweeps against Bucky’s white shirt and the contrast pulls him forward as much as the way that her shirt is unbuttoned an extra button or two. “Were you looking hard for us?” her eyes are dark and blown, Bucky’s lips are blood-flushed and open as he looks over the revealed pale skin of her decolletage.

Bucky’s smile goes near predatory and he leans Darcy back, letting her arch her back, lifting her chest, and where gravity goes, so does the weight of her breasts, “Yeah, Steve, looking hard?”

The sight of these two, a private moment in this space, the fresh smell of dirt and rain and life from the planters, it’s almost just enough. And he could leave them be, wait for them later in the comfort of his own room, and it’ll be nice. But these two challenge him in ways he’d never thought he’d appreciate and he knows he can’t settle for almost enough.

“Looking is the wrong word.” he says, kneeling to their side and runs his hand up and under Darcy’s skirt, cutting off her moan with his mouth as he finds her clit. Bucky brings his hand to grip her hip and uses the leverage to thrust deeper into her, and the throaty groan reverberates around his mouth. Steve reaches out, threads his free hand into James’s hair, pulling just enough to get a similar reaction.

He’ll drag them back inside in a few minutes, he doesn’t like the chill after the rain that settles too much into him, but for now at least this is an embarrassment of comfort that he can’t ever resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Steve/Darcy/Bucky, porn. Ideas include books, the smell of rain, greenery.
> 
> Someone out there thinks I can actually write smut.


	70. Clint/Darcy, toddlers

“There are roughly seven things that are wrong with this picture and I don’t even know where to start.” Clint says shell-shocked.

“If one of them isn’t the fact that Natasha is currently three years old and hanging from her knees from the ceiling, I’m really going to have wonder what you consider wrong.” Darcy knits her eyebrows and bends sideways to put Nat in her field of vision a little more upright.

“Eight things then,” Clint grimaces and walks underneath the tile that Natasha is playing in, “Natasha, let’s get you down from there, okay?”

Darcy feels around her pockets, “Um, Clint, babe, problem number nine?” but there’s a sharp electric buzz and a yell, and Clint drops to his knees. “Oh, never mind, you found the problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy prompt please....toddlers


	71. Darcy/Steve, hot chocolate

It’s 2:30 in the morning by the time everyone gets back, and it’s not like Darcy ever actually sleeps on these nights anyways, and it’s better to wait in the common room rather than in her own. It’s just too quiet in there, but at least out here she can content herself with the way that each piece of electronics beeps and creaks.

Tony probably hates that.

People stream in and out, going into their respective suites and not really paying attention to Darcy. She’s almost invisible, curled up into an oversized chair with her phone, idly browsing and just staring at the movement.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve asks, suddenly beside her with two mugs. She doesn’t take the second from his hands, saying she doesn’t need coffee, it’ll just keep her up longer. “Not coffee. The machine had a couple of those little hot chocolate cups. Join me?”

Darcy smiles wanly and takes the mug from him. He’s changed, but not showered, dirt and sweat still clinging to his face, Steve sits on the floor beside her leaning against the side of the chair.

“You always here this late?” He asks.

Darcy blows into her hot chocolate, “Not always, but…I like seeing everyone come in, so I can count.”

“Not sure if that makes you more of a preschool teacher or a quartermaster.” Steve murmurs and takes a long drink. He apparently can handle hot liquids better than she can and that opens up her smile.

“With you guys? Preschool.”

They stay quiet, and Steve drinks his steadily, but Darcy nurses hers. When he gets up to go, he puts a hand on her shoulder, “Thank you for worrying about us.” And he’s so tall when she looks up, like there’s miles of him to go before she even gets to his face. She can’t quite reach his eyes but she smiles and put her hand on top of his.

They both linger longer than they should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Darcy/Steve, Hot chocolate
> 
> (I'm working from the back end of my backlog this week. Wish me luck!)


	72. Clint/Darcy, comfort

Don’t get comfortable. That’s what everyone warned Darcy when they found out that she and Clint were seeing each other. don’t get comfortable, he’s not good with women. He knows them in bed well enough, more than kind and that focus is amazing, but he’s not good with what comes after.

Everyone warned Darcy, and the gossip was flying, and the gossip was right about the sex. Clint’s warm and sweet and just on the good side of rough when she needs it, and not at all when she doesn’t.

But she hears the gossip every damn day, knows the stories about his ex-wife who was dead and now isn’t, knows Natasha too well to ask about these things and so when Clint starts getting cagey Darcy starts getting cautious.

Darcy’s just twenty-three, after all, Clint’s way older. If he were looking to figure out how a relationship works, it wouldn’t be with her.

She’s stayed over the night, because winding down be damned, he’s warm when she’s curled up on his chest. She’s woken halfway by his low sleep-ravaged voice saying, “So damn hard to say….come on Clint, this shouldn’t be so hard. It’s just Darcy.”

So this is it. She’s going to be turned out in the middle of the night. Christ, Clint really is bad with women. Fuck it, she’s not going to cry over this, but her eyes tear up anyways.

Clint startles when he feels the dampness against his bare chest, “Darce? You okay? Bad dream?” when she opens his eyes, it’s to a worried and concerned face that seems so much at odds with what she knows is going to happen.

“You’re breaking up with me.” and it’s not a whine, because she’s not whining, “I knew you would. Everyone said it, that you can’t, don’t…I don’t know, you just…”

Suddenly his arms are completely around her, and it’s this that she’s going to miss most. As much as everyone said not to get comfortable, he really is. He knows his strength and how to use his body for her benefit.

“No, no no no no, babe, not at all.” Clint says, dragging her chin up so they can look at each other, “Fuck, this isn’t, not at all, not any of that. I wanted to say, fuckthisishard,” he sucks in his breath over those words and exhales, “IthinkIloveyou?”

Darcy blinks, and she’s still a little asleep, because she thinks he said the he loves her and that’s can’t be true.

“No, it really is true. Darcy, I’m in love with you.” he kisses her forehead and wow, that’s not what she expected at all.

“Oh…” she says, and why is it that all the wakefullness just got knocked out of her? “Oh…okay. That’s good.” she yawns a little, “Didn’t want to give you up.” And she’s falling back asleep to another small kiss and throat rumbled laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: clint/darcy comfort


	73. clint/darcy, candy

It’s her damn mouth. The worst part is that Darcy knows it and she’ll absently tease Clint the entire way through this meeting with that fucking sucker she’s got between her lips.

And no one else will think anything of her, because everyone just sees Darcy as childish and impulsive. And she is, beautifully so, and of course she’s taking notes in the meeting with a cherry sucker, letting it audibly pop out of her mouth just when he thinks he can look away.

“Ms Lewis! Can you stop, please?” Steve snaps, apparently at the end of his rope.

“Sorry, Steve.” Darcy says contritely, and then paints her lips. dragging the candy across them, making eye contact with Clint.

Damn woman is going to try every bit of reserve that he possesses, and Clint doesn’t really have very much to begin with, and her lowered lashes and sugared lips hold just so much promise. There’s a quiet corridor and a quieter supply room that he’s going to have to take her to, has to taste her mouth and taste her underneath it.

It’s her damn mouth, it’s going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Clint/Darcy, candy
> 
> It really was going to be porn, but then it was time for bed.


	74. Clint/Darcy, (sweet catastrophe verse), Badass

Clint was certain that this information had made it’s way from open secret to just plain general knowledge. He has an action figure, his girl’s a badass in the DSS. This is not supposed to be news anymore.

But it’s September and he hasn’t heard from Darcy in awhile, and it’s not unreasonable to assume she’s part of the security detail for the United Nations. Because Darcy is always where the action is, and there’s about a dozen or so monsters, just big toothy monsters attacking right now.

He’s probably not supposed to have a cell phone with him when he’s trying to shoot the damn things, but he’ll deal with whatever Hill or Fury or god, Steve, wants to dish out because he’s just trying to make sure he doesn’t have to get personal with these things.

So okay, Darcy’s a strong woman, been through high threat tactical training, worked on a dozen or more cases, and does counterterrorism from time to time. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a protective streak to him. You could probably see that from space.

“Look,” he snaps, “I’m with SHIELD. Clint Barton. B-A-R-T-O-N. I’m an Avenger. I don’t need to know specifics, I just need to know if one person is in New York right now.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t release that information to you at this time.” The Diplomatic Security staffer is going to get on his nerves with how polite she is, if she wasn’t already on his nerves for just not doing what he asks.

“Hold on,” he says, dropping the phone into a pocket because a perfect shot has presented itself. He releases and fires, and picks back up the phone. “No, listen you can wait for me, not the other way around. I just need to know if Agent Darcy Lewis is in New York. That’s L-E-W-I-S.”

He’s getting nowhere with the staffer, but that’s okay, because he’s got good eyes. And that short brunette in the well-fitting if practically government issued black suit charging out of the UN building and leading a small team is Darcy, M4 already firing.

“Yeah, you know what, never mind. I found her.” he shuts the phone, stuffs it back into his pocket and radios that he’s heading to the ground to work with the DSS on site.

Time to confirm their status as the country’s preeminent badass couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy, badass


	75. Darcy/Steve, bear

“He has it bad.” Tony needles, slinging an arm around Clint’s shoulder, and their matching grins mock Steve, “has it bad for that curvy little lab rat of Fosters.”

“You’ve seen her like what, three times,” Clint grins, “I believe the last time he stood next to her.”

“Progress!” Tony is going to get on Steve’s every last nerve tonight. Steve can take the teasing, that’s not a big deal. Tony doesn’t tease to bully or intimidate, he does it because it’s like breathing. But inevitably, “Barton, you’ve spent time with the girl back in New Mexico, is she always bundled up in those sweaters?”

Barton answers only with a grin that creeps open and proud, “If I swung that way, I’d be at her door right now.” he escapes Tony’s arm, pulls out his phone, starts pressing buttons and walking away.

“Steve, Steve, Rogers, you’ve got to go get the goods on her. She’s your type. She’s everyone’s type. Stacked, curvy, smart — has to be, we haven’t kicked her out yet, and I hear she’s got a mouth like a sailor.”

And here’s where it gets interesting, because Tony hasn’t yet said anything untrue. He’s just saying it in the worst way possible, and it’s getting to be more than Steve can bear.

Clint’s quietly doing a countdown and when he hits zero, Pepper walks through the door and collects Tony, shooing him out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” she says to Steve, “I don’t think he’s slept in two days. It’s not an excuse.”

A few minutes later, after he’s poured himself a glass of water, Clint leans over the counter and grabs his attention, “So here’s the thing,” he says quickly, “if you asked her to a movie, she won’t say no.”

“Really?”

Clint grins and shrugs, “She’s forward thinking in most things, but she does like the guy asking her out first. Just, think about it.”

Actually, this might be where it gets interesting, Steve things as he leans against the counter, and thinks of the possibility of soft skin and warm hands and a dark theater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Steve/Darcy, bear


	76. Darcy & Natasha, Twisted!Au,  spending time together

Darcy is sent to Minsk with order to take down a world renowned spy, and packs her very favorite bow and her warmest parka. Instead, she ends up at a cafe eating draniki with the Black Widow and brings home her new best friend in the whole wide world.

Coulson isn’t impressed. But Fury is, so that’s like, totally a win for Agent Lewis.

*  
Darcy watches as Natasha relaxes and unwinds in a new and deeply terrifying sort of way. They’ve been working together for a year now, and the trust between them has grown past “I will not kill you” to “I will help you hide the bodies, where’s the nearest pig farm?” (because with Natasha, there’s no doubt that there are dead bodies somewhere) and Darcy thought she knew all the ways that Natasha cooled her jets.

There’s sparring, there’s shooting, there’s playing the occasional joke on Sitwell and Jimenez when Coulson wasn’t looking. There’s fashion and dressing Darcy up to look like an actual girl and hitting the town leaving tracks of admirers behind.

Darcy is not prepared for Natasha’s descent into bro-hood. Actually, this may just be a long form prank on Sitwell and Jimenez, but Darcy can’t think of any good reason for spending weekend after weekend in the SHIELD downtime room, watching football with the handlers like, like she enjoys it. Not just enjoys the company, but is arrested by the actual game.

“If you, like, tell me how your fantasy football team is doing, ” Darcy says, sitting down beside her, because this is her life now, “I know a wonderful pig farmer just an hour away.”

“Like you’d ever win against me.” Natasha says, watching the game intently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Darcy & Natasha spending time. "Natasha unwinding was terrifying in a whole, deeply awesome way
> 
> seemed perfect for my twisted!au, yeah? I sort of left out the deeply awesome, and went with the terrifying.


	77. Darcy/Steve, tickling

“So what was the deal earlier?” Steve asks as the elevator door closes. He’s walking Darcy back down to her apartment in the tower. She’s more a permanent guest than anything else, managing Foster’s lab after it became clear that she was no longer able to be just an assistant and not quite ready to leave Jane at all. He puts an arm around her waist, wishing she was ready to make this a little more public, outside of the team, but he understands her reluctance. The privacy is nice, and the secrecy is, in her words, kinda hot.

“Earlier?” she screws her face up, trying to remember.

“You smacked Clint’s hands while we were arguing about what to watch next.” He looks down at her amused, “Now, I’m generally in favor of hitting Clint. He usually deserves it, somehow. For something he did or will do in the future.”

“Oh, that.”

“Oh, that.” Steve repeats, kissing the top of her head.

“He was tickling me. I don’t like it, or actually, I like it a little too much. So I made him stop.” Darcy smiles, “You should be proud.”

Likes it a little too much? Steve knows in his heart, he can’t not be the little punkass he’s been his entire life and he lightly moves his fingers along her sides.

“Fuck! Steve!” she yelps, her face in an involuntary grin and she jumps back closer to him. “Not here!”

“Not here?” he turns her head to kiss her, long and hungry and when the elevator opens she leads him down the hall, and he tries to keep close enough to keep ghosting his fingers along her sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Steve/Darcy -- Darcy is ticklish. Steve discovers he finds tickling her kind of hot


	78. Bucky & Darcy, Maria Hill, trouble

What she wants is kind of irrelevant. Because what she wants is to not be stuck in Hill’s office, with Hill just looking at her like, damn, like there’s nothing left that Darcy could ever be ashamed of. Darcy’s not really ever really ashamed of anything she’s done in pretty much her entire life, but the way AD Hill just looks as she’s reading over the report?

If she was going to be ashamed, this would be the time.

She looks to her right, Bucky in the chair next to her, his hand covering his mouth, eyebrows raised. Under the desk, his legs are stretched out and he’s crossed his ankle over hers.

Hill continues, “So, we have statements from the florist, the sporting good store, from the mall security guard, and from the cashier from Sbarros. And I really…” Hill shakes her head, ” I just…what were you doing?”

“I uh, just wanted to do something nice for Steve.” Darcy slumps in the chair and Hill sighs and walks out of the room.

“Baby,” Bucky grins, kissing her cheek, “You always get me in all the best kinds of trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Darcy, "You always get me into the best kind of trouble."
> 
> Read whatever pairings you want into it.


	79. Clint/Darcy, SOS

“Clint,” Natasha puts a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back from his thoughts. Clint’s not good with inaction, not good at this sort of waiting, “we’re getting a transmission.”

“Live or tape?” He says, turning around on a heel to walk with Natasha as she leads him down to a conference room.

“Live.”

*

Darcy looks terrible. Clint had dug his heels into the ground at the sight of her over the densely scrambled and spoofed transmission. It’s not like he’d expected to see her looking fresh faced after being kidnapped, but she’s been worked over in a major way.

But his girl holds her head high, despite that her jaw is swollen, her broken nose, despite the rings of bruising around her neck and whatever her clothes are hiding. Clint’s honestly not listening to whatever the hired henchmen are saying, he’s watching Darcy as she lists from side to side and slowly draws her gaze up to the camera.

He doesn’t notice at first, too focused on the whole but somewhere while the translators are going strong, he sees it. A rhythmic pattern to the way she blinks and he scrambles for a sheet of paper to write out what he sees, before the message cuts out.

“That’s my girl, my smart, brave girl.” he says to Natasha as the rest of the staff starts trying to figure out a plan and where she is — the video and the kidnappers were careful not to reveal anything. “Play it again.” he says.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Clint, I don’t think you need to see…” Natasha thinks he can’t take seeing his girlfriend in that state and belittles his intelligence, but he kinda loves Tasha, so he’ll forgive her.

“No, I need to see…watch her eyes, she knows where she is, but I didn’t get all the letters. ” He shakes his head and waves off Natasha concerned expression and explain, “She was obsessed with disaster stories as a kid and learned morse code when she was fixated on the Titanic. Steve, watch this with me!” Clint springs into action and starts watching the recording, heart heavy but racing with anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Clint/Darcy, using blinking to signal to send a message


	80. Bruce & Natasha, pie-eating contest

“So we are pretty much just waiting for Clint to relive the few bright spots of his childhood?” Bruce puts his feet up on the picnic table, “How long is this going to take?”

“Longer than I’d like in this sun.” Natasha admits, looking uncomfortable in the heat.

“Red hair, pale skin, you should probably get underneath some shade. I think there was a covered stage area over past the midway. We could walk over there.” Bruce points, moving his legs in an attempt to get Natasha moving.

She shoots him a withering look, “I am not heading down the sexual harassment boardwalk, again. I am liable to shoot someone, and Coulson says I can’t do that in public anymore.”

“Just in public?”

Natasha smiles serenely, Bruce probably doesn’t want to know. He looks around at the rest of the fairgrounds, “Uh, let’s see, food court?” That’s a no. “Animal stalls? I think there’s goats.” Yeah, also a no. Natasha doesn’t really get the 4-H club. “I think the pie-eating contest has a shade.”

“Over the audience?” She asks, looking over her shoulder towards that area.

“Uh no. Over the participants.”

Natasha considers this, “What kind of pie?” she says, standing, holding a hand out, “Because I’m pretty sure I can eat more of a fruit pie than you.”

“You are on…” Bruce let’s himself be lifted out of the wooden seat, getting his feet to the ground before he topples over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt is from my seester-in-law, [ tobinlaughing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tobinlaughing) and was natahsa/bruce, pie eating contest.
> 
> I think she's flabbergasted I actually filled it.


	81. Clint/Darcy Ceiling!Clint

“Do I want to know why you are watching ESPN like, 35, through the ceiling vent?” Darcy looks straight up, and zips her hoodie a little higher before she settles on the couch.

There’s no answer, but there usually isn’t. But she knows Clint is up there, because Clint is the only one that watches the more esoteric sports channels, the ones that do reruns of track and field events from the 80’s and of course, archery tournaments. Clint watches those with an amused laugh, he’s not allowed to compete. Someone might notice.

So she settles in, and when she starts looking for the remote because, hey, if Clint isn’t going to acknowledge that she;s there, she’s not going to assume he’s actually interested in whatever mindless and pointless -athon is on the screen.

That’s when she gets his reaction and he drops a fucking mint on her head. “Okay, fine,” she grumbles, “But you have to explain something. What the fuck is a modern pentathlon and why is it worth watching from the rafters?”

His voice is far away even though she knows he’s directly above her, “It’s a series of five events meant to simulate the life of a calvary soldier.”

“Okay, but then, why is it a modern pentathlon? Because based on every modern soldier I know, their life is pretty much running, shooting, blow jobs, paperwork and Halo. I could so win an Olympic gold in blowjobs, let me tell you.”

“I’d pay to watch those games.” Clint removes the vent and drops down next to her on the couch.

“What does it say that it takes the word blowjob for you to come out of the ceiling?”

Clint plays with the pull on her hoodie, flicking it between his fingers, “That I am a man of simple pleasures?” He draws down the pull unzipping her hoodie slowly, and uncovers her shoulders.

“Simple, yes. That is a good description of you, Clint.” Darcy says, her smile like a sigh as he tilts her head for a better vantage as he kisses into the crook of her neck and pulls her into his lap. He takes the sleeves, the soft cotton of her favorite hoodie, crumples it up inch by inch to get his grip before making quick work of it, letting it fall to the floor.

“Show you simple, babe, nothing but a man of complications…” He grins and slides his hands between her skin and her thin tank top. ” And you could use some practice time if you are gonna take that gold medal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy Ceiling!Clint


	82. clint/darcy, art prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for puffabilly, in response to some artwork she commissioned [ here](http://puffabilly.tumblr.com/post/46492448558/iron-han-and-one-more-care-package-commission) it's beautiful art and you should click on it. I had to write this response, HAD TOO.

“No, Clint, stop that, I am trying to study.” Darcy makes a show of her books and papers and the damn study guide she’s been trying to finish for days. “I have finals next week. I want to graduate. Finally. As if I were a normal person.”

“Mmm, but you aren’t,” Clint says, sliding into space beside her and Darcy sort of remembers that she’s in Virginia, in her dorm room, right now. Clint’s…not usually in Virginia, not in uniform, like ever. “You are like the least normal non superpowered person I know.” He nuzzles his nose against the curve of her neck, eventually butting his forehead so that she moves her arm to rest on his shoulder.

“How are you even here?” Darcy snaps out it that wonderful lull his presence always gives, and removes her arm quickly, because seriously, “What’s going on? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt?”

“I’m passing through on my way back to the City, nothing I can tell you. Probably. No.” He answers in quick succession.

Darcy scowls but when Clint takes her hand in his, and plays with her hair, clearing it away from the side he’s on, “I really do have to study. Don’t wanna be dating a college kid forever, right?”

“Hey, there’s something sexy and awesome about being able to say my girlfriend is a co-ed.” Clint says into her ear, quiet and just a little bit mocking, “Even if she is on the, what did you call it? The Six-Years and a God plan?”

Darcy pushes her book away because she is not going to get any work done now, and takes off her glasses,”Now them’s fighting words.”

“I can think of things to do other than fighting, babe.” Clint answers and buries his lips against the crook of her neck.


	83. darcy/steve, serenade

“Darcy, I know, and let me repeat this again, no songs.” Steve groans at yet another friday night suggestion of karaoke. It’s supposed to be team building. Why Darcy keeps suggesting it, no one knows. For all that some of them are good singers, no one much likes putting themselves out in public that way.

Except for Clint, but that's because Clint has the self-preservation instincts of a two year old.

And Steve? Steve had enough performing in public to last a lifetime, thank you very much. Steve also likes that being a bit of a wise-ass is a plus in this modern age, and once he starts getting the speech patterns, he figures out how to be a wise-ass again.

“What does that have to do with anything. We can totally hit a dive bar and sign up to sing Love Shack! You don’t actually have to know the song to sing it, all the best parts are kinda spoken or shouted, or don’t make sense.” Darcy pulls on his arm, “Come on, please say yes. Please Steve? If you say yes, it triggers some sort of domino effect.”

“A what effect?” Steve likes the way she pulls on him, and he ponders how acceptable it would to take her hands together in his at this point. Is that forward? That’s probably too forward. He’s getting a lot better at talking to women, now that they don’t seem as distant and unknowable, but figuring out what to do when you like one, that’s still a little out of reach.

“A domino effect. You say something like, “I’ve never had sushi before.” and all of a sudden, everyone gets really soft and big-eyed and they fall right over. They want to give you everything you haven’t had yet, so it doesn’t matter what their plans were, they’ll do whatever you want.” Darcy is in his personal space again, and she smells like soap and a touch of wildflowers, She’s more like the showgirls from the USO tour than anyone else he knows, vibrant and shining. She can project like a mountain with just a perk of her eyebrows.

He really digs those eyebrows. Her face is so expressive.

“So all you have to do is say, ” She slips one arm under his and brings up the other one like a puppet, “hey guys, I’ve never done this karaoke thing before, maybe I should try it! and they will capitulate.”

“I’ve been to karaoke before, Darcy.” he says, “remember last time, when Clint surprised everyone by knowing all the words to We Didn’t Start the Fire.” That wasn’t a bad song. It actually seemed to be a bit of a, what did Tony call it? A crash course?

Darcy looks out past him, her mind working hard through this roadblock, “Did you sing?”

“No. Because I know no modern songs.”

“Still works. This time you want to try it. Maybe with other people, to ease you into it?” Darcy looks up at him with eager and plotting eyes, and he’s reminded of another instigator he’s known. And it’s over.

“Okay.”

“Fantastic!” Darcy leans up and up and kisses him on the cheek, “You won’t regret this, Rogers!” She lets go of his arm, her hand trailing down his before she walks off.

Damn it. It might have been forward, but he should have grabbed her hand when it met his, and he should have pulled her in. Maybe next time. Maybe next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from minimino haruka: Steve/Darcy serenade (fluffy)  
> I did my best!


	84. Clint/Darcy, tattoos (sweet catastrophe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the Sweet Catastrophe universe

Clint’s just got a gold band, beat up within just a few weeks afterwards. It’s thin, it’s cheap, and neither of them think about the symbolism of having such disposable rings. Darcy does like a little flash, but bears it out in other ways.

It’s small enough on Clint, only enough to mean anything to him, but he can stroke the stylized d on his index finger with his thumb and everything focuses. Darcy’s got a stick figure arrow on hers that he doodled once when they ended up in Tokyo at the same time, and she made permanent the next day after he’d left.

Maybe when he retires, and its the first time he thinks about retirement and not funerals, maybe then he can be flashy. Buy them both everything they deserve, which still means a beat up ring for him and the weight of the world in gems for her.

When they are both retired, and neither of them running around the world hanging off the backs of helicopters with their weapons of choice. When Darcy isn’t securing embassies and he’s not doing things all sorts of classified, they’ll back up their gestures with words and legalities, but this is enough for them, the right amount of entangled, the right amount of distance. And it’ll be enough, and it always will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy, tattoos
> 
> One of these days, I'm going to get all of the little prompt fics pulled together for my various verses.


	85. Clint/Darcy, Jane Take My Hand (Twisted AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my Twisted! AU verse, where Clint and Darcy exchange roles. Clint is a non-traditional college student, Darcy's a former Rodeo queen sharpshooter turned SHIELD agent.

“If you don’t want help, then yeah, you can totally ignore me.” Darcy would be pinching the bridge of her nose, but she’s got her bow in one hand, and the other outstretched to Jane Foster. Dr Foster is apparently the worlds most easily stockholmed kidnapping victim because she is not following her instructions.

Her clearly enunciated, articulated instructions, words that she knows now because making out with Clint is totally helping her vocabulary. College boys, woo. And Foster just ignores her, staring at the computer that the kidnappers so wonderfully gave to her. She’s doing work, honest to goodness work.

“Dr Foster, I really don’t have all day!” Darcy is damn frustrated now and Clint starts laughing at her, “What?”

“The louder you are, the more she won’t hear you.” Clint singsongs into her ear over the com line.

“Shut up, I’ve already rescued you. Stay in the van.”

“I’m the resident Foster-wrangler here, do you want my advice or not? I don’t have to leave the van.” Clint says with mirth. He may have hooked her on the thesaurus too.

Darcy groans out a long and exaggerated, “Fine. But if your way doesn’t work, I’m taking her by the waist out the window.” Clint laughs and she rolls her eyes at what he’s telling her to say.

“Hey Jane,” She says flatly, because this isn’t really going to work, “who ate the last of the Kashi this morning?”

Jane sits up straight, “What fucker messed with my cereal?” and blinks when she turns around to see Darcy and realizes she isn’t in New Mexico or any of the SHIELD labs where she consults, or even Culver, “Oh, right. Kidnapped.”

“Okay, lady, just take my hand and let’s get out of here.” Jane does and they start with the running portion of the excursion (see, more big words) as Clint just howls in laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt was Darcy: we're running with the shadows of the night, so baby take my hand, you'll be all right.
> 
> Someday, I'm going to pull these out and collate them into a single series.


	86. Clint/Darcy, fight

It’s not a terribly long search. Clint got regulated to babysitting Foster and company as they traveled back to New Mexico for, okay, he doesn’t really know what for, but he knows it’s science that involves a lot of late nights. Fine by him, sleeping during the day is a pleasure. And Darcy had ceded driving the pinz off to him, and that’s even more of a pleasure. It’s not a fast or responsive vehicle, but it is fun.

But it’s just after sunset, and about an hour ago Jane and Darcy got into a argument that ended with Darcy slamming a series of doors in Jane’s face and then she disappeared. There’s nothing outside that suggests that anyone has taken her, or that she walked off. So Darcy’s around here somewhere.

He checks the places that he knows she goes. They didn’t go back to the dealership, but are renting out some office space. Funding is fantastic, Jane says, the ability to actually have space that isn’t all window is good. There’s a basement, and that’s a no go. Same for the bathrooms, and eventually he hits the roof. He should have started there, honestly, because Jane and Darcy don’t go to ground when they are upset. They hit the sky.

“Hey,” he says, closing the access door behind him. Darcy is laid out on the roof with a blanket up to her waist and he walks up beside her, “Cold?”

Darcy doesn’t answer. But she’s breathing and her arms move to cross under her head. He nudges the dust at a spot next to her and sits down. “So here’s the thing. Your door is still locked. Did you actually slam the door in Jane’s face and then climb out the window and up the drainpipe to the roof? What in the world could you have been arguing about?”

Darcy presses together and eats her lips, and as she releases them, they flush as they refill with blood. Not that Clint notices. Of course not. That would not be right. This is Darcy after all. She’s a hot minute away from being jailbait, and she steals all the chips in the pinz during the long nights.

“She was calling me immature.” Darcy admits, drawing her knees up, making herself smaller and more protected.

Clint has to laugh, loud and honest, “Somehow, that I can believe.” Darcy scowls without turning her face towards him.

“She told me I was too old to be acting like a sullen child when I expressed the notion that maybe I’d like to sleep at night for once. I know what night shift does to people, it’s not good for pretty much anyone.”

“So you decided to act like a sullen child?” he asks gently. Who is he kidding, he likes Darcy, has ever since the first night in the science van when she brought out a package of starbursts to wait out Foster’s mad rantings, and he ended up scavenging half the bag off of her.

“If you got it, flaunt it.” Darcy turns over to face him, lifting herself up by one arm to look up at him, “Probably not my best idea.”

“You know how I got assigned to you guys on this trip?” Clint feels charitable and smiles over at Darcy, “It wasn’t exactly my first choice of assignments.”

“Considering you haven’t said anything other than your displeasure over my choice of pop music —”

“Driver gets to choose the tunes, that’s the rule!” Clint objects because oh my goodness if he has to listen to top forty shit for another night, he will go mad.

“You were saying?” Darcy says sweetly and nudges at Clint, her hand wrapping around the ankle of his boots.

“What’s Coulson’s number one rule? Besides sit down and shut up when he’s talking?”

Darcy laughs, a beautiful throaty sound and they say together when she calms, “Don’t touch Lola”

“Well, I wanted to make sure no one did, so I saran wrapped it, and wrapped wire with it so you couldn’t just cut straight through it. I thought it was brilliant. No one can even lay a hand on her! Coulson didn’t see it the same way and here I am.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I’m not going to grow up?” Darcy’s eyes are alight with something other than just mirth. “Cause I’m going to tell you, I kinda like being immature. It’s a little fun being that sort of impulsive.” She telegraphs the whole thing, giving him a chance to back off before she kisses him. It’s not a quick little smack but not deep either. It’s friendly and free-wheeling and he moves the blanket off of her to run his hands over the thin fabric on her back.

He pulls away just for a moment to smile against her mouth, “Impulsive is good, I like it.” and Clint leans back in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Darcy, Fight


	87. Darcy & Jane, Texts from last night

Darcy isn’t sure, but she thinks that the words she dislikes the most in conjunction with her job with Jane Foster, scientist and almost functional human being are: compile, render, and model. Because they all involve an awful lot of waiting time where there is nothing else in the lab to do. And there’s not even anyone to text right now because what is she going to say that isn’t classified. So that’s out, at least to her friends.

Her mother, on the other hand, has long since learned that Darcy Lewis does not actually use the voice capabilities on her phone in any way other than to ask Siri for the nearest chinese takeout, and does not take Darcy’s unresponsiveness as anything but a personal challenge.

When her phone buzzes for the roughly tenth time in a row, Jane finally snaps and asks Darcy what is going on.

“My mom asked me if I ever go on dates. I had to suppress the urge to ask if having casual sex with a freshmen counts as dating.”

Jane snorts, “Ugh, freshmen. Don’t bother with them ever. All they want is your ability to buy booze without a fake id.”

“And grad students just want an easy lay combined with a power trip,” Darcy replies with false sweetness, and they both laugh. Her phone goes off again, and she reads the, oh for heaven’s sake, eleventh text message. “And now she wants to know if your boyfriend has a brother. So, I’m not touching that one with any length of pole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Darcy and Jane friendship, Text From Last Night, “My mom asked me if I ever go on dates. I had to suppress the urge to ask if having casual sex with a freshmen counts as dating.”


	88. Steve/Darcy, jealousy

There are things that Steve Rogers just doesn’t get about the times he lives in now.

Aliens, sure. That’s not too much of a stretch, and they had them in the pulp novels he read from the corner store when no one was watching him that closely. Cell phones, computers, all sorts of technology, that’s mostly just a matter of figuring out how they work. There’s no trouble in how they exist, it’s just the mechanics of it all, it’s all just extensions of what he understood and saw Howard use, and the things Howard gave him.

He’s forever going to be given things by Starks and expected to use them.

But what he doesn’t get is that after decades of women’s lib, the sexual revolution, reliable birth control and a million other advances, up to and including miniskirts, that women seem to have less choice in how they run their dating lives.

It’s just that, this is a thing he doesn’t get. Sure, where he was at, dating was fun, but it was also part of finding someone to settle down with, but there was nothing exclusive about it. Girl could have several dates a week or a month, and there was nothing wrong with that. Not till you went steady. That’s how he managed to get out on what few dates Bucky managed to find for him, just show the girl a good time, maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Date them, rate them, and say goodnight if they didn’t stack up.

Steve may not have stacked up, but thats what dating was for, get a sense for things. You dated a lot of people, and eventually you found one to go steady with, and if that worked out well, you got engaged and married. 

He doesn’t get where that happens now. Whatever land there is between not dating and dating seems fraught and strange and transient. It’s there one moment and gone the next.

Because a week ago, the crush he was nursing on Darcy could have gone somewhere, and now it’s inappropriate to ask her out. Tony calls him grandpa when he says “in my day…” but it’s true, in his day, it still would have been fine to ask her out if she was dating someone else.

He listens to the gossip, because no one has a sense of privacy about anyone’s personal life, and finds out that Darcy met a guy through her graduate program and started stepping out with him. Darcy says, that no, it’s not that serious, but yeah, she likes the guy. And he didn’t pay no mind to the whole third date rule when she needed to take it to the fourth instead because the date was interrupted by an all-hands incident. “Just offered to pay my half for me, so I could get out there. Seriously, Mike’s a good guy.”

It’d be a lot easier if Mike wasn’t a good guy. Then Steve could press his luck, could have found a way to bring that to her attention. He’s not going to break anyone up just because he doesn’t like them, though. It’s Steve’s problem that he found his nerve just a little too late. He should be happy that she’s enjoying herself, that she’s happy, but Steve just can’t bring himself to feel that way. Mike treats her right, doesn’t make demands or orders. He’s decidedly average looking on his own, nothing special, but even Steve will admit that they make a good picture. He’s smart and shares her interests and understands things the same way she does.

It’s just that there are just things that seem wrong, things that are just going to seem like a loss wrapped up in progress. And when Mike picks Darcy up in front of the Tower and she takes his arm to walk in the promising spring air, the yesterdays are too close to him to look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: can I request steve/darcy with either Steve getting really jealous of someone that darcy is dating and/or annoyed with Darcy's boyfriend for not treating her right?
> 
> According to Meri, I am not a nice person. This might be accurate. I promise fluff someday. Inspired by the prompt and by a stray reference to dating habits that then became research that then became feels.


	89. Steve/Darcy, when you waltz with the one you love

Darcy usually sleeps well at night, usually falls asleep fast and doesn’t wake more than once. She’s read somewhere that before electric lights, when you woke and slept more with the sun, that it was perfectly normal to get up in the middle of the night and just do something. Or someone. It’s when monks would say Matins, and it was just how people lived their lives.

But it’s not typical now, by any means, but that instinct is still there and sometimes Darcy finds herself wandering through the common areas, her mind aching for a little activity that’ll lull her back to sleep.

She’s almost forgotten that there’s a piano here — in her defense, she’s not here often, just when the science crew rolls into town on their way to somewhere else. So she’s forgotten that there’s a piano because she figures no one actually plays it. Like a lot of things, it’s mostly there for show.

But tonight, in the dead hours before even a hint of dawn threatens the sky, there’s someone softly playing with beginners grace and hesitance, but it sounds like its from memory and not a book. Darcy can’t quite make out who it is in the dark but she walks towards it anyways.

Steve’s at the piano, picking keys out with one hand, just a melody that’s sticky in Darcy’s head, like something long ago.

“I didn’t know you played.” She says, breaking his concentration. Steve doesn’t stop playing, but it slows until the lilting phrasing slows to just a few notes in long succession.

“I don’t really….” Steve answers, lifting his fingers from the keys, “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t think that the sound carried that far but….”

“No, I was up.” She drags her fingers across the lid of the piano before settling down on the bench beside him. “Keep playing? You weren’t bad at all. You learn to play on the USO tour?” It seems reasonable, can even imagine one of the band sitting with Steve as the stage is being set and prepared, just plucking away at the keys, a jazzy tune.

But what he says is different, quieter, even has he he starts playing with both hands, and its a nearly sad and sweet song, but there’s some hope to it too, “My mother died when I was….very young, and I didn’t have any other family, so I was sent to a local orphanage. It wasn’t all that great of a place for me, but it’s where I met…but in the neighborhood there was a piano teacher and she was one of those who had that little voice that said to do some good, so she came in and tried to teach us.”

She didn’t expect his hands to be so graceful, even when he’s messing up his fingering with a quiet smile and a laugh. He’s a fighter, and expects them to be blunt and weary. He’s warm beside her, a goddamn furnace and she turns her head slightly to listen as Steve talks, pressing a hand against his back.

“One of the nuns had brought an old piano, left to her from someone she had worked with. We couldn’t afford to get it tuned often and it always had a twang in the octave about middle c. We had a pile of sheet music, some old and a few newer.”

“She taught you well enough,” Darcy says with a yawn, and with the warmth the body next to her, “I like it.”

“I’d sneak down in the middle of the night to play, only time I wasn’t pushed off by someone bigger than me….I liked the music though, even if I was playing with the damper pedal on.”

Darcy leans her head against his shoulder, finding it hard to believe Steve at any age and any size would let someone push him around. She’s more than half asleep by the time he starts singing so softly, she can really only hear it reverberating in his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meri asked me for some fluff to soothe the sadness of my pining!Steve. Well, after spending a day working on a collection of pre ww2 sheet music and some conversation with Kari, I came up with this.
> 
> The song that Steve plays is [ When You Waltz With the One You Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhbLFIsGODc), just a piano version. Other headcanon? All the sheetmusic was for piano and ukelele, so picture if you will, a wee baby Bucky with a ukelele, playing with Steve because, well, it’s Steve.


	90. Clint/Darcy, it's not  what it looks like

“It’s not what it looks like.” Clint balks and tries to hide something on the table behind him. Darcy isn’t fooled and for a guy that tries to stick to shadows for work, outside of it? He is not sneaky at all. Clint’s gestures are big and clunky and most of all, purposeful.

“It looks like you’re tinkering with your arrows again,” Darcy points out as she tries to poke her head around Clint. He ducks and counters her movement, “Didn’t the last one explode?”

“To be fair, a lot of my arrows explode.”

“It was a net arrow. There shouldn’t have been —” she catches a red and gold sheen, “Wait, did you let Tony play with your arrows?” Darcy blinks, “Did he try fitting a suit into a quiver of arrows? That is so not a good idea and you know it, and anyways, that totally shouldn’t be able to happen. There shouldn’t be an arrowhead big enough!”

“Uh —” Clint tries to interrupt, “Do you need me for the rest of this conversation?” Darcy stares at him until he squirms under her gaze and he stands to the side so she can see that yes, those are very much Stark-infested arrows.

“No, no I do not. ” She pats him on the cheek, letting it linger longer than a friendly gesture, before gathering up the arrows, “I am not going to let Stark kill you in the name of new and terrifying ways of putting on his armor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Clint/Darcy, "it's not what it looks like"


	91. Bucky/Darcy/Steve, gardens

"Can I take you somewhere?" Steve asks, pulling a lock of Darcy’s hair out from behind her ear. She looks up at him (and up and up, tall men, seriously).

"Yeah, of course, where do you want to take me?" Darcy responds accepting the kiss that bound to happen, placed behind her ear with grace, ease and a sweet smile that grows on her face with the pressure of his lips.

"Actually, I want to bring both of you, but it’s really more of a you thing." Steve says into her ear, and it’s not meant to be sexy or anything but just where his head managed to be at the time, but it’s so soft that it still sends a shiver through her.

Somewhere ends up being in Brooklyn, at the botanic gardens. Bucky walks behind them, oddly quiet for him or maybe just subdued. Darcy tries to take his arm a couple of times, but he’s being hands off today. Maybe it’s because they are in public together, which is hard for the three of them, not being a part of their lives that they live out loud.

"They built it out of an ash dump," Bucky finally says, “Back in the teens. Rebecca got lucky one year before our father died, got signed up for the children’s program. She was so happy, loved all that digging around."

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Bucky had the same history as Steve, because he had so much more contextual awareness just from being out and about in the years since, and he wasn’t one for talking about before the war at all. But here he sighs as he looks out over the Japanese gardens, and everything is just so beautiful and lush, “I’m going to go see her." it’s something declarative, like he’s making the commitment firm to everyone and not just himself. “I need to see her, try to explain…will you both come with me?"

They’re in public, and Steve’s like, a national hero, and they have rules, but a touch and a kiss will tide them over until their private life is in private again. But right now, they keep to the quiet support and feed the ducks and find hidden treasures amongst the flowers.


	92. Clint/Darcy, Remote

It had taken an embarrassingly long amount of time to get to the small SHIELD research installation that Team We Don’t Need A Cutesy Name, We Have Work To Do was currently based at, and the reason became abundantly clear as Clint and Natasha scouted ahead of the rest of the team. Each of the guards was shot clean through and through, and their ear pieces torn out, from multiple angles, before a radio call could be made for any sort of backup.

The pinz sits in the back of the parking lot, off by itself, alongside Jane Foster’s RV. Clint doesn’t like that the first place he checks for signs of life, any life, looks at least a day unused, dishes piled in the RV’s sink and the cereal wide open. He knows for a fact that Darcy spends fifteen minutes every day cleaning out the vehicles and putting them to rights. Those are the fifteen minutes that they talk or she leaves a long rambling voicemail, bitter words that he knows are endearments and the highlight of his day. Clint closes the cereal box before heading across the parking lot with Natasha, opening the door into hell.

The building is ransacked, but as they get closer to the labs, there are less dead and more seriously injured, telling the same story with their eyes closed. Dead guards and agents, but a gas pumped into the building. They start arranging transport for the injured, still keeping the rest of the team out of the building. Clint knows that Steve has to be hurting with holding back by now, but it’s Natasha who takes up that argument as Clint tears through room by room, person by person until he finds the lab that Foster had claimed.

It’s by far the most ransacked, not a computer left, not even any of the displays. The papers from the whiteboard lie on the ground in loose, uneven piles. Behind it, he finds them. Darcy’s only slightly broader form covering Jane, limbs entwined and still defiant.

He kneels beside them, afraid to touch and find them cold. When he moves their arms apart, he’s pleased to find Darcy warm and her skin as soft as the last time he grazed his fingertips against her. He gently pulls her away from Jane, not feeling ashamed or guilty that he watches only the movement of her hair as it travels across the smaller woman’s neck. Jane has a cloth pressed against her mouth and nose, passed out but alive.

But Darcy has barely moved, and her eyes are wide hollowed out things, eyes nearly black with whatever this gas was, and her makeup is smeared from tears. There’s a steady hand on his shoulder before he even finishes saying the words calling for immediate transport.

Darcy can only give small, shallow breathes that doesn’t even move the curls in front of her mouth. But it’s no rattle, and comes evenly enough that he just unfurls her tightly clutched fingers to find her own cloth and broken glasses and settles her head in his lap as he waits for medical to make their way to the lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remote is sort of a theme here, rather than anything else. Also, I apparently had some angst to work out today.


	93. Darcy & Jane, Girls Night Out

Jane doesn’t order her usual girliy fru-fru drink when they hit the bar on Friday night when Darcy finally drags her out. She orders a ginger ale instead while Darcy finds the cheapest acceptable rum and coke from the selection behind the bar. She stares at the drink as Jane takes careful, measured sips. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?"

Jane sputters, “I’m not drinking, so that’s the only reason it could possibly be, right? Typical."

"You’ve had a drink, occasionally two, every Friday since I’ve known you. It’s the beginning of your weekend ritual that starts with booze and ends with trying to count stars, even though you know its foolish. How far along are you?"

Jane pinches her lips together, then scowls, “Two months."

"Thor’s only been back for less than three." Darcy blinks, “That’s impressive Foster."

Jane folds her arms and leans forward on the bar, “Well, you only need once. And we were safe too…."

"Jane, you didn’t pay attention during any of humanities, did you?" Darcy questions with amusement, and Jane perks up with curiosity, “When it comes to mortals, gods don’t shoot blanks."

"What?" She says, all of the implications of that little phrase raising her eyebrows and draining the blood from her face.

"Oh honey, you’re gonna have to get creative, cause withdrawal is about the only thing that’s going to work for you." Darcy’s face goes wide and devilish, “Better learn to swallow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted: I'd love to see some Darcy-centric Girls Night Out
> 
> Let’s blame my Latin and classical mythology professor for this one.


	94. Darcy & Tony, trouble adapting

"Are you replacing me?" Darcy scowls and Tony just blinks at her, like his internal microprocessor is rebooting and has to find exactly what she’s referring to in his recently viewed files.

"Excuse me?" Tony starts, “No, excuse you. How could I ever replace you?"

"Ever since you and your grungey-ass hoodie came back from what you affectionately call ‘fly-over country’ and I call ‘most of the United States’, half of your conversation is about some kid and his garage workshop. If I didn’t know your predilection for anyone’s garage workshop, I’d call that creepy," the corner of Darcy’s mouth curls up mockingly, “But since it’s you…."

"You are jealous. Jealous of little boy, Lewis."

Darcy doesn’t pout, because while she is Stark’s progeny, she’s also a little more staid than he is, the product of years of blissful Tony-free upbringing. But then, that sudden realization that hey, she had a dad all this time has left some small part of her being kinda resentful.

Oh, Tony’s been talking while she’s been retreating into her head mulling this own, "…I mean, the kid is kinda like the long lost son I never had."

She snaps her head up and looks him straight in the eye, “Well, I am the long lost daughter you never knew you had." And she is his kid, she knows how to leave a scene with gusto and without any grace, so she leaves him be to figure out his shit on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Tony Stark is having trouble adapting to the fact that Darcy Lewis is actually his daughter


	95. Clint/Darcy, you, me, and the dog

"Wait, there was a dog in that apartment? Where were you hiding him, under the sink?"

"Darcy," Clint whines, dreadfully adorable in the slide of his voice, “Come on, I need someone to watch Lucky and the folks in the building that do it are out of town."

"Clint, I live in a smaller place than you. I can’t stay here, there’s always weird people hanging around that are seriously skeevy, can’t you leave him with Kate. Or Kate’s money. Or your money?" Darcy objects at first, but Lucky comes around the corner of the room looking forlorn and just a bit guilty. If Clint’s a little adorable when he whines, then the dog is going to be even worse.

"Kate’s not around right now. And he doesn’t do well at the kennel. Come on, girlie…I’ll make it worth your while, babe."

Darcy looks sharply up, raises her eyebrow, “Clint Barton, are you trying to bribe me to take care of your dog with sex?"

Clint doesn’t even look ashamed, “Really good sex?" he offers, biting his lip and grinning. Darcy rolls her eyes but nods and leans over to pet the dog.

"Come on Lucky, let’s get your things together." Darcy shakes her head with a smile, laughing when Clint quickly wraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses her hair before grabbing his things to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompter asked for something with Clint, Darcy and Pizza dog


	96. Steve, Darcy, Mulan

"I don’t understand." Steve says, riveted to the television screen, “That’s not any way to lead an army. All Shang does is yell at them and take away their things when they don’t do well at them."

"It’s a montage, Steve, listen to the music instead," Darcy says, settling into the couch with popcorn.

"You mean how he never notices how cruel they are being to Ping? Even though Shang doesn’t like him very much? That’s not a good leader." Steve objects further, “I know that some antagonism is needed, and that’s fine, but…."

"Steve, just watch the movie." Darcy says evenly, as Mulan climbs the pole more by wits than strength. He chuckles through, but groans again in short order, “Shush Steve, it’s as much about Shang’s improvement as it is their own."

"But he never does anything to improve them! If anyone, Mulan improves the rest, not the guy who is supposed to be their leader!"

Darcy hits him with a pillow, “Moratorium on the talking, Steve. Tony isn’t allowed to criticize the science in movies, you aren’t allowed to criticize their leadership skills."

"But…."

"No." Darcy silences him with a hand over his mouth, “It’s a Disney Musical, you can pick it apart later. Enjoy the magic now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lalalala--lee asked for Darcy introducing Steve to her favorite disney movie, Mulan
> 
> I’d say I just rewatched Mulan for this, but that would totally be a lie. I re-watched Mulan because it came on netflix, and I im’ed Bevin with “WE MUST BE SWIFT AS A RAGING FOREST"


	97. (Explicit) Tony/Pepper/fantasy-Darcy, I accidently a threesome

"I’ve been thinking," Pepper says, hands streaming through hair and down stubble and sharp lines, before settling on Tony’s shoulders. It should be harder for her to think right now, my god, how can she think right now? Tony can’t think right now, because Pepper’s bare breasts are pressed against his chest, and there are no pants involved right now, and there’s just a whole lot of bare everything pressing against other bare, rapidly hardening body parts and…"I’ve been thinking," she repeats after a very not-soft kiss, and her delicious mouth parts away from his, “about experimentation."

"Oh yes, Pep, talk science to me." And that’s a hand, oh yes that’s a hand, wrapping around his cock, and this really never gets old. Tony lives a life of things that get old very quickly, and sometimes this is actually a literal thing, but what truly never gets old is just how amazing it is whenever Pepper just slides so easily, well fit, like a damn glove around his dick and grinds.

Heh, Pepper grinder.

"I’ve been thinking," Pepper says, lifting Tony’s chin up to look at her somewhere close to her eyes. He kinda digs the tall thing, because when she does this, he gets the best view of her cleavage whenever he sneaks his gaze back down, “That in the grand experiment that is our relationship, we’re really the controlled variables." She cheats, by the way, because she’s doing something positively filthy involving her hips, and his hands just go to the small of her back, because where else is he going to put them right now?

Still, Pepper’s talking nerdy to him, that should be rewarded and he gets his face in the crook of her neck and kisses and finds an earlobe to suck on, tugging gently. “Go on," he says, after she breaks her control for an involuntary little shiver of shock.

"I’ve been thinking about independent variables." Pepper grits out, lifting her hips and riding just the very tip of his dick, and it’s not until she sets back down on him, her full weight on his thighs, that his brain finally processes what she’s actually said.

"What, independent independent?" Yes, that’s astonishment, folks. Pepper’s the only one who gets that emotion out of him on a regular basis and most of the time it’s not during sex. This is new, this is, he’s going to go with this, “Did you have someone in mind, Pep?" He tries to think of the people that Pepper sees and might well, react to. He can feel his eyebrows as he goes down the list, lots of men, he could swing that if Pepper wants it. Who is he to judge? Or complain. Not like he hasn’t been there before, not that that’s public information. But then, Pepper does meet a lot of beautiful, powerful, sexy women and —

"Darcy Lewis." She says with a little bit of bashfulness. Well, as bashful as you can get when you are already fucking in a chair.

It takes a moment, has to place the young woman before he can really comment, “Huh," he says, taking that moment to see Darcy in his mind, mentally removing a few layers of clothing, “Foster’s assistant, with the…." He’s never really known Pepper to be a curves sort of woman. Or actually, a woman sort of woman.

"Yes, Tony, with the breasts." Leave it to Pepper so somehow work herself up so close while commenting on his insufferability. She licks her lips, closes her eyes and he just wonders what she’s imagining, “But also that hair, and her lips and I really just want to know what they’d be like on my cunt." And he sees it, dark hair spilled messily over Peppers pale thighs, and Tony could even just watch and be perfectly fine. He can think of even better things, but he’d let Pepper run this show, everything else would be a goddamn bonus. He can think of other places for Darcy’s lips and how her tits would bounce if he could fuck her from behind.

Oh yep, that does it. Tony comes quickly with a shudder, getting his fingers on Pepper’s clit, and it’s just another minute before her eyes close and her head tilts back, exposing her long lines. He nuzzles into the valley between her breasts, grazing his lips against the skin and sweat.

"We should find out if Miss Lewis has a real interest in science." He says, quieter, slower than normal, his head stilled to a single line, a line that leads to and is led by the woman in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was for any Tony/Darcy
> 
> I do not Tony/Darcy. Try as hard as I can, I can’t break up Tony/Pepper without wanting to hurl heavy objects at myself (It’s something I can read, but not write, go figure).
> 
> Everything’s better with threesomes. And everything better with Darcy. A threesome involving Darcy is just best.


	98. Clint/Darcy, do you really

"Do you really want to see where this goes?" plays over and over in Darcy’s head and she keeps willing the goddamn words to come out of her mouth. They are just words, just a few moments and then they’d be over with and maybe this thing with Clint could have substance, one way or another.

She’d taken his arm, catching up to him on a busy street, hadn’t balked when at lunch, that arm hugged her chair, or after, Clint’s fingers stroking the inside of her wrist, a prelude to taking her hand in his.

It’s new, that’s what she’s thinking. There hadn’t been this yesterday, had there? She tries to think back, but all that stands out in her memory is mocking grins and tolerant words, and an intensity that would scare her if it were ever placed entirely on her.

But new is good, and it flourishes in the space between seconds, in looking at someone from a new direction, a new possibility and universe emerges.

Do you really… lies on the tip of her tongue, in the hesitant space between their thighs on the sticky restaurant booth, crowded out by her argument with Jane, but it’s there, and it’s new.

And its still there, just waiting for release when at the end of the night, Clint tips her chin up, presses his lips to hers and waits with sweet pressure for her response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original prompt: Clint/Darcy, "Do you really...."
> 
> You can prompt me, anon or not, at my  tumblr


	99. Bucky/Darcy, I'm not stalking you

Contrary to whatever Natasha and Steve might think, Bucky (James to those who don’t know him, and frequently you asshole to those that do) is not actually following this slip of a girl around. Darcy just happens to always be around where he is. The this is the truth, the light and the American Way, honest to god.

Okay, that probably means he’s lying, but she is the kind of girl that always got him going, long before his type expanded out to strong and a little distant. It feels good that a cheerful, sarcastic girl with curves every which way can still get him going, no violence or unpleasant pasts to bind them to each other.

Sometimes, the world needs a bit of goddamn cheer in it, alright? He’s never going to stop loving Natasha, not even when they aren’t together, because the weight of history will always have their backs. But Darcy, this girl that’s come into town and taken a place at the kitchen counter like she’s always been here, and maybe she has, because everyone seems to know who she is, well this Darcy looks like a bit of fun.

So he watches. Ain’t no harm in that, right? Not going to say anything, not going to do anything, and he sure as heaven and hell knows he can look without being caught —

"Dude, that’s fucking creepy, stop it." Darcy says from the counter that she’s sitting on, not at, on top of, in an oversized shirt and leggings. She’s more bemused when he gives her a proper look, "Yeah, you, asshole. Stop with the stalking."

"I’m not stalking you," Bucky lies. Vicious, vicious lies, said with a grin and a wink, because he’s been caught with his figurative pants down.

"Then what are you doing?" Darcy matches his grin and his posture from the counter, and, well, how about that, she’s linking the two of them up together, consciously or not.

"Guess I’m just unable to keep my eyes off of you," he remembers how to flirt. Without guns or anything sharp, even.

"Oh good one, why don’t you come over here and say that closer to me," She crooks a finger at him, and well damn, maybe she will be a bit of fun after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing in a bucky voice is always amusing to me. He love run on sentences, and strange, sardonic points of references.
> 
> original prompt: Bucky/Darcy, I'm not stalking you
> 
> You can prompt me, anon or not, at my  tumblr


	100. bruce/darcy, getting out more

When Bruce comes back from a mind-numbing welcome back to campus safety meeting because yes, Dr Foster had invited him down to Culver to work on some interesting problem, and that was a fantastic idea, there’s coffee on his desk. Perfectly made in a reusable cup, and prepared just the way he likes it.

It has to be a mistake. “Is this yours?” He asks Jane, lifting up the cup, still warm. Actually, still hot.

"Nope," Jane shows him her own, "Looks like she’s adopted you as well."

"She?" Bruce blinks, because he’s been here all of two days and doesn’t remember there being anyone else in the lab except for Jane and, "Your…?"

"Darcy. She has this tendency to drop of coffee or food, and once, a giant jawbreaker, off between classes for the people she’s decided are hers." Jane shrugs, "She said that I needed the jawbreaker for practice." She says without any hint of embarrassment about that. "She’s decided you’re her people."

He takes a sip of the coffee, letting it fill his mouth. He doesn’t usually drink much of it, but the ritual is important and gives him space to breath, “You’ve brought in other people to get input, does she adopt everyone.”

Jane lifts her lips in a half smile and considers, “No, almost never. There’s a secretary, my grad assistant, two people in the office of student life, and well, you, I guess.” Her look changes to speculative, the sort of look that women get when they are happily aligned and matched with someone and they want you to be as well, “Usually it takes a lot longer.”

The door slams, and Darcy, and that’s very much the lab assistant he remembers from the other day, and he remembers asking her for some data and a short conversation that followed, walks through the door shedding bag and coat and picking up a tablet from a table.

"So you’ve decided to adopt Dr Banner? That was quick." Jane asks blandly and he watches and Darcy comes up short and trips over herself, stumbling but not falling. She flips her hair when she regains her composure and her eyes are wide and theres a hint of a blush on her cheeks. Jane tries to hold in her laughters and looks over to him, "Oh yes Dr Banner, we have got to get you out more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which I still can’t really write darcy/bruce but I’m giving it my best shot anyways. Also, I’m sorry commas, for all the abuse.
> 
> original prompt: Bruce/Darcy, getting out more isn't such a bad thing
> 
> You can prompt me, anon or not, at my  tumblr


	101. Steve/Darcy, feminism

My dearest Steve Rogers,

I write you this in hopes that something written can get though your thick skull with more acuity than the combined efforts of such stunning intellects and mind-blowing tact of Misters Stark and Barton (for want of a hammer, by god and jesus, and a million cherubic angels).

For you see mister rogers, and really, someday we are going to get you in cardigans and have you take off your shoes, while you are possessing of a staggering amount of innate goodness you can be so mindlessly dumb sometimes. When both of the aforementioned idiots can both agree on this during our little spat, I do not see how you cannot find fault within yourself. Alas, your stubbornness, while a trait i do find endearing when it involves a bed, your tongue and an intent to discover new noises that a woman can make, does not carry over in your opinion of the institution of marriage.

steve, darling man, I am constantly overjoyed at your ability to adapt to this brave new world you have found yourself in (i’ll get you a copy later, if you didn’t catch that reference) and I’m sure you were a man at the cutting edge in your day. Gay people wanting to marry, you hear, well fine, you say, marriage is wonderful.

that may in fact be your problem, dear sir.

in the decades on the ice you must acknowledge that certain things have changed in perception. for instance, a woman raising a child without being married is no longer a sign of a failed and ruined chance of life, or something to be regretted. Women marry when they will and not when they just get unfortunately in the family way (it amazes me that your adaptability went so far as the fortification, but not the natural consequence of the per-marital act) and a shotgun is no longer the best man at many a wedding.

But that blessed union, that lofty institution to which many aspire, holds little interest for me at this point, no matter how high you rise in my affections (and, as an aside, you are pretty damn high in my affections, steve) and a woman has the option to hold off or even not entering into marriage.

it doesn’t cramp my style. it just isn’t my style at this point, and your repeated offers while I am still figuring out what to do with these extra cells I am carrying (and that is a whole extra discussion we are having without the tin and leather brigade) do not go unnoticed nor unanswered. You just do not like the answer.

this in no way effects the rest of our relationship, which I find very fulfilling at the level at which it exists, and do not see reason to cause its cessation.

love (and I do mean that)  
Darcy (and additional company)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And sometimes I do prompts solely as writing exercise, just to see what I can come up with in a time period. I don’t particularly like this, but I wanted to play with style. Time limit was 30 minutes, letter-format.
> 
> original prompt: Feminism. Darcy talks to Steve about society. Tony and Clint back her up
> 
> You can prompt me, anon or not, at my  tumblr


	102. Clint/Darcy, TV clearance, (Twisted!Au)

"So, my rotation on the Helicarrier comes up this week." Darcy’s just going to put that out there. Stick a bow on it and let Clint unwrap that shit. He likes being lead along a little bit. He’s still with Doc Foster after all, and she’s been leading her poor boyfriend around the world as if Clint were on a leash.

Actually, it’s probably more likely that Foster is on the leash and pulling and barking at anything that looks like science. A yappy little dog too, but strong.

"Really, that sucks." Clint replies, his voice far away. Must be on speakerphone, "I was actually going to be in New York later in the week." he drops his voice, "Without Jane."

That’s just not fair. “That’s so not fair,” Darcy whines, “I have to play rent a cop in the most boring outpost, and do firearms quails while you are on the ground and most likely in my bed?”

"Yep." Except when Clint says it, he some how drags it out to be several syllables in length. "Looks like."

Darcy has the best idea, “I have the best idea.” She says, “You should come up to the Helicarrier. We’re just off the City anyways right now. And I might be doing 10 hour days but we can work with that, we get all the cable channels.”

"Darcy, I don’t have clearance for the Helicarrier."

"And it might be boring, but the mess isn’t the worst. No, that honor goes to our installation in — wait, what? How do you not have access? Jane has access. They even let our probies have access."

"I’m just an intern, babe. That’s — SHIELD doesn’t let…"

"Bullshit. Jimenez owes me like five favors. I shot his very favorite most wanted last week. You can watch all the crap you want during my shifts and then when I’m off."

Well, you can’t see eyebrow wags over the phone, but Clint knows they are there and laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in my twisted!au, which I will eventually pull out into its own collection.
> 
> Original Prompt: Darcy gets Clint super awesome clearance for the soul purpose of being able to watch trash TV on any screen in the Tower and/or Helicarrier
> 
> You can prompt me, anon or not, at my  tumblr


	103. Clint/Darcy, falling

"Precarious situation," Darcy repeats, struggling on the words and her very tentative grip, "Right now is when you decide to break out the dictionary?"

"Can we save the discussion of my supposed lack of intelligence for sometime after I pull us both up?" Clint does not look down, nope not at all, because he can feel that Darcy only is not falling by the grace of his ankle. And he’s only not falling because grappling hook arrows are very useful. He knew they would need to hold more than just his weight.

Normally, Clint would just swing somewhere safer, but there isn’t a safer with his girlfriend, friend-girl, girl that will actually, god willing and the creek don’t rise, want to continue to sleep with him after this hell-ridden date, is holding onto his ankle.

So new plan. Pull them both up to safety and wait for assistance. Then, he can find out with her just how long the adrenaline rush lasts, because her hand slowly finding surety on his ankle and the other wrapping around his calf is motivation in itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> puffability prompted: Clint/Darcy, falling.
> 
> You can prompt me in my askbox at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	104. Clint/Darcy, scrapbook

He finds it as he and Jane go through her things together. They boxed much of it off after — the accident that is, and Clint just now thinks that he might be able to go through a few of them. Jane’s taken care of Darcy’s clothing, knowing just what pieces to keep and which to distribute about and what charities are best suited for the various pieces.

Her dress, Clint notes, is kept quite well preserved.

She had papers a plenty. For a woman so attached to her phone and her gadgets, she amassed paperwork and books, photo albums from her own childhood, their album, years of time together in pictures and words. He feels that these are forever going to go in boxes, every time he goes through them, they’ll be that much less of Darcy left.

He finds the decoupaged journal in that box, just everything that had been on her desk before, just everyday things for her. It starts with newspaper clippings from their first encounter with Thor, because in small towns you can’t convince everyone to stay quiet. And then there’s more, an outpouring of articles and pictures from after New York, clippings of gala tickets that she attended, Jane and Thor’s weddings, Tony and Pepper’s “Well, we haven’t killed each other yet” anniversaries, and any major articles. And somehow, for whatever reason that Clint still has never fathomed, he goes from being just another person mentioned, to outlined photos in the art journal, dates and quotes in careful practiced writing, to a feature.

It would have been childish, if it hadn’t also been so very much Darcy, to record her affiliation with such people with scrapbook paper and patterned tape.

He’s very careful to keep the pages dry as he looks through each page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kaijuhearmenow asked for: I think it would be cool if Darcy had this scrap book of all the media clippings that the Avengers were featured in and then Clint found it one day or something.
> 
> And then I got all melancholy in it.
> 
> You can prompt my in my askbox at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com) I am always accepting prompts!


	105. clint/darcy rooftop

Darcy’s zipped into a dress that is hanging on for dear life around her curves, short and with the most killer (and borrowed, because the dress nearly wiped out her discretionary savings) shoes she’s ever in, and it feels a little bit like nothing. The party has been been fine, met a lot of people, impressed maybe a couple of the important ones. She’s finally been able to get Jane to socialize, telling her that a New Years Party only comes once a year and it isn’t like you weren’t going to end up just staring about the computer screen watching cat videos anyways.

Things are okay, Darcy supposes. It doesn’t mean anything that the reason she bought this dress and borrowed these shoes isn’t here. She’d ask Natasha if she knew where Clint was, but one look at Darcy and girl would figure out that massive crush in a moment. Darcy is reasonably sure that Natasha would keep it to herself, but, yeah, lifetime of trust no one means she’ll just wallow for the night.

Her phone rings, and she ducks into a hallway to answer the phone. She doesn’t recognize the number but she’s been informed to always answer her phone, no matter what.

"Good evening, this is Darcy Lewis," she answers, rushed and bored and wanting to get this call over with.

"Hey Darcy," Clint’s familiar voices says, though it’s pinched quiet and there’s wind in the background.

"Hey, I thought you were coming tonight, it’s already almost midnight," Darcy rushes through the words and hopes no one can see the grin on her face, "Where are you?"

"A rooftop?" Clint sighs, "Can’t tell you. Wanted to be there, though. Something came up."

Something clicks in Darcy, because she has Clint’s number, personal and work, programmed into her phone with appropriate levels of security. And neither showed up when he called and if he’s on an op, “Clint, did you pick up a burner phone just to call me while you are on a mission?”

"I don’t think I should answer that." He laughs, and she can hear the sounds of readjusting, "But we can probably blame Nat somehow. She knew I had a plan."

"Clint you make horrible plans, they always go wrong." But oh, Clint is calling her when he’s on a mission and it’s almost midnight and maybe she had been trying to gather her nerve for the better part of the week. Feelings are hard.

"Then maybe it’s better that I’m here, cause I wouldn’t it to go wrong."

"What was your plan?"

There’s a little beat of a silence, long enough that Darcy starts to think she lost the connection.

"I was going to make sure I was next to you at midnight so I could try and kiss you." Clint says, even more quiet and almost like he’s flinching away from her.

"You were — really? Me?" The admission sends a rush down Darcy’s spine, tingles straight down to her toes.

"Yeah, you. There were plans, I was going to kiss you and tell you how, I dunno, how great you are and …well basically what I’m doing now."

From back in the main room, she can hear the countdown start, “Well, it’s almost midnight now. We can save the kiss for when you get back, but I could stand to hear how great I am and maybe what we might do about that later.”

So, the party is looking less like she needs to wallow, and while it’s not kissing, Clint’s voice in her ear is nearly as intimate and just as good of a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wordsmithdee asked for: Cause I can't sleep here ya go: Clint and Darcy, New Years Eve, The Rooftop  
> You can find me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	106. Clint/Darcy, missing shirt

The bed dips slightly next to where he’s laying down, and Clint hears the monitors as his heart rate picks up. His eyes are closed, but Darcy’s got a perfume that she wears that he knows far too well now.

"They released you?" he says, refusing to open his eyes and having to look at her.

"Apparently I’ve got a speedy metabolism." Darcy responds, "Faster than yours at any rate."

It’s a little awkward between them, and now there are things that he shouldn’t know. He knows what her skin tastes like, like salt and clean, and how it reds underneath his fingernails. He slowly opens his eyes, because now when he has them closed, he can see every shadow of the night before.

When he pulled her out of the hallway and against his door, and nothing is ever going to be right between them.

It says something about his work that while he can think of worse things than being dosed with something (RD is still working it out, Stark tried, but Chemistry is not actually a strong point) that lowered every inhabitation, and lowered Darcy’s too.

He knows that her lips are chapped, and that the little flecks of worn down skin dragged against his neck and he can feel it, and the drug is still in his system and he wants to do it again.

He’s got nothing to apologize for, except for everything.

"I uh, my shirt is missing," and she blushes, her eyes skimming over his body and damn it, she’s thinking the same things. Maybe the way the callouses on his finger felt over her nipples, or all the worse things he did to her, "I know I had it when we were coming back to the tower, and I only had my tank on when they found me after last night."

"I’ll look for it." he promises, because there’s not much he can do to make this right between them, whatever fragile thing they may have begun at some point is probably destroyed by now. And its not even his fault.

"Thank you." She stands up, and he already misses that weight next to him, and he closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to watch her go. But eventually he feels her gaze on him so he has to open them again. Clint watches her bite her lips and take a deep breath, and she looks away from him, "Did you still want to be on for next weekend?"

"Yes," he says quickly, too quickly, "But we can play it by ear if you want."

"Okay. That’s probably good." She says and she’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some very slight nsfw imagery, but tagging it, better safe than sorry. Plays with aftermath of a “sex pollen” type tropes
> 
> Prompt: Darcy Lewis/pairing of choice: missing shirt
> 
> You can find/prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	107. bucky/darcy/steve, cooking

Darcy wakes up because being between two raging furnaces for most of the night is a little more heat than she can handle, but the loss of one of them feels downright cruel. Bucky’s moved off to the far side of the bed, something Steve warned would happen, that it really wasn’t anything personal, just that contact during the night could freak him out.

Half awake, Darcy does wonder where Steve’s gone off too. A quick glance at the clock and it’s not that early, so maybe he went off running. Maybe he went off to think about exactly what happened last night, how it can never happen again, that they just needed to get her out of their systems or something. It’s not like Darcy’s going to complain if she only gets one night with the two of them. That’s one more night than anyone else is going to get.

She pushes the covers aside and swings around to get out of the bed. She should find her clothes and leave just in case its awkward this morning, save the discussion for later. But the smell gets to her before she can get on anything more than her t-shirt and she follows it through to the kitchen.

"I didn’t know you knew how to use the stove," she teases Steve, peppers cooking behind him on the burner while he scrambles what has to be an entire carton of eggs. "It smells good."

Steve smiles easily, like they didn’t just all fall into bed last night, drunk only on the late night quiet, “I made it a lot growing up, all you needed was a couple of peppers and an egg or two, milk if you could spare it to stretch the egg. Kept you full for as long as you needed it to.” He looks up and looks her over, taking in her shirt and her bare legs, “You look good like that.”

Darcy blushes, and maybe it’ll be a little easier now, “Pantless Saturday, it’s the new hip thing.”

Steve picks up his mixing bowl of eggs, “I like this addition to my schedule. Wait,” he grins, “watch this.” Steve pours the eggs into the pan, sizzling in contact with the oil. From the bedroom, there’s an unmistakable noise of feet hitting the floor and Bucky walks out, his hair sticking up and only in underwear.

"It’s like an alarm clock for him," Steve whispers. Darcy barely hears it because she’s being kissed by Bucky. And then Steve’s being kissed by Bucky and then maybe this isn’t going to be awkward at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jadziabear prompted: darcy/bucky/steve, cooking  
> You can find/prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	108. bucky/darcy/steve, getting caught by the team

Actually, what’s amazing is that they haven’t been caught. They live in a building with spies, gods, and the brightest minds of several generations. All three of them just assume that everyone else has figured out that they are a matched set. It’s been months, after all, and Darcy figures it’s just the general insanity of the Tower’s inhabitants that three people dating each other just isn’t all that comment worthy.

It turns out that this isn’t the case.

Because yesterday, Tony had walked through the common room as Steve and Darcy mindlessly kissed. They aren’t big on public displays, proximity is usually enough, but they had been alone, and it wasn’t like they were going at it or anything. Just, they were close together and kissing.

Tony had been Tony, wolf whistling and harassing them with good humor and Darcy always gives as well as she takes.

Today, however, Tony walked in on a slightly more indecent display, Bucky’s hands up the back of Darcy’s shirt, his palms curved around the swell of her breasts, and pulling her close. Darcy’s head tilts back with the force of his kisses, and she’s a little unbalanced, so maybe she can understand why Tony would misinterpret things and pull James off of her by his hair.

This is not a fight Tony would win, but momentum and surprise means that Bucky’s fallen on his ass, before popping up to get punched and stagger aside.

"What the hell, Tony!" Darcy yells.

"What the hell, asshole," Tony also yells, "Moving on your best friends girl? I didn’t think you’d be so low."

"He’s not so low," Darcy tries to say, but Tony doesn’t listen. The noise...it attracts people. In particular, it attracts people who are already on edge and listen for fights. It’s probably best that it wasn’t Thor and Bruce that came running into the room, because this floor probably wouldn’t survive another god and green fight.

At least Natasha and Clint aren’t obvious about the fact that they are watching the excitement.

"Okay, seriously, you don’t have to go on about my honor." Darcy objects while Tony tries to explain what he just walked in on. Tony is keeping Darcy and Bucky apart.

Natasha narrows her eyes before rolling them, “Stark, you should probably stay out of it.” she warns.

And that’s when Steve comes in, unkempt and part of his hair sticking up from sleep, “Is everything….”

"Stark thinks Darcy cheated on you with me," Bucky says evenly.

"Really," Steve replies, "Wow. I can’t believe that. Bucky how could you."

"Why are you not upset. You should be upset. This is the sort of thing that crimes of passion are committed over." 

"Stark," And now Steve is just confused, because he thought everyone knew this, "That would be — that’s just."

"You know, I think Starks really much more of a visual learner," Bucky grins and it’s infectious, spreading to Darcy as well.

"We should provide an example," Steve confirms, and steps in between Stark and Barnes and shows Stark exactly why he really doesn’t care, hands on hips and rolling his own.

Darcy drapes an arm over Stark’s shoulder, “They are so hot when they do that. I’m just going to have to take them back to bed.” and waggles her eyebrows.

The stuttering is splendid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merideath asked for: Steve/Darcy/Bucky: getting caught by the team.
> 
> You can find/prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	109. Steve/Darcy,  inspired by the trailer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has not been a single drop of editing here folks, but I had to write something after the Cap2 trailer.  
> My prompt box is always open at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)

Natasha has taken too busy to mean exactly what it is, which is more not the right woman. She can understand that, Steve’s a little single-minded, and has standards that most people could never live up too. Kristen-in-Statistics never stood a chance. She’s too quiet, and while a capable woman in many ways, she doesn’t have the outgoing drive that Steve seems to like in women and more broadly, in his friends.

Still, he’s lonely. And all the friends he does have doesn’t make up for loneliness that can come from a cold spot in the bed or against a shoulder. It’s been a long time for Natasha, and she may be used to it, builds her strength with it, Steve looks unmoored in his spare and unfocused time.

It’s all observation from there, figuring out what women seem to like Steve, not just the hero-worship that can even plague the halls of SHIELD; watching Steve to figure out who catches his eye. Steve’s no slacker in what draws his eyes, his only physical requirement seems to just be pretty, no single characteristic is shared in common. But the ones that get a second glance are those that grin, those that are kind, and those that don’t take shit.

"Angie in Munitions?" she offers to set them up. Steve’s looked her over more than once, in that way that men always do when they think women don’t notice. Angie was a field agent before injury took her out of active duty. She’s sturdily-built, with a broad smile for everyone and has excellent range scores.

"No thanks," Steve replies with a little smile.

"Still too busy?" she teases back.

"Not quite," he’s lucky that smile is endearing, otherwise she’d punch it right off.

Over time, it’s Bree from HR, Claire in PR, Agent Esposito, and out of sheer exasperation Teddy, who is a black belt in practically everything, but would rather be a barista in the cafeteria. Every time, it’s that little smile, and a polite refusal.

She’s never met a guy, fully possessing a sex drive, that didn’t seem to want to go out with anyone. It’s during a training session for the new recruits, where she and Steve are enjoying being the bad guys, that throws one last name out there, “Darcy,” and Steve falls over himself, tripping on nothing, “Really? Darcy, Foster’s assistant? You’ve met her like twice.”

Steve doesn’t blush, doesn’t even stammer, “It only takes meeting her once to get the idea in your head.”

"So, too shy or too scared?" she says as she disables two of the recruits trying to sneak up on them.


	110. Steve, Darcy, mermaid darcy

He’s got to be hallucinating. That would make sense to Steve, two days into drifting in the ocean in a far too small rescue raft and with only a half-full gallon of water. He’s hungry, his metabolism always on overload and even with not moving, his stomach is already churning.

The woman clinging to the side of the raft, poking at the yellow vinyl with green tinged fingers, the webbing between them longer than usual. She has long, dark hair, wet against her head and neck and the swell of her breasts and floats on the water.

"Well, if I’m going to be seeing things," the woman perks up at his voice, her mouth echoing silently his words, "at least it’s a pretty girl." Her tail splashes the water behind her and she smiles. "Do you understand me?"

She shakes her head yes, and the silvery scaling that starts behind her ears and thickens to end in gills at the nape of her neck. She tilts her head, ticking it at unnatural angles

"Do you have a name?" he asks, leaning his head against the edge of the raft.

"Darcy," she says, her voice light and longing, "You’ll be here long."

"Nah," he dismisses, "They’ll find me again. They have before, they’ll do it again."

She launches herself up, her her body showing curves that blend into the tail, the same color as her skin, tinged green and showing violet veins, gleaming iridescent in the sun. “You have salt water in your blood, you belong to it. It’s time to come home.”

Has it been longer than two days? Steve looks at his water, it’s nearly gone and he doesn’t remember drinking it. Nothing feels cold, the sun is beating down on him and it’s a nice change from the way he froze inside out the last time, slowing him down.

"It’s time to come home," she repeats, her smile widening and she reaches out to him, stroking his face.

"Home?" Steve questions, looking up in the sky, it’s clear. There’s been no sight or sound of rescue planes, or armor, or the whoop-whoop of Thor’s hammer. He could go home if he heard that sound.

The raft tips, and while the water is cool, it doesn’t chill him the way it did years ago, and when Darcy’s tail wraps around his legs, and he gasps for breath as lips cover his, strange and sweet. The weight leads him down, the rush of water over his head is familiar, comforting as the world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an anon prompted: Darcy comes from a long line of mermaids, or people who can shapeshift into mermaids if you prefer. Being fully equipped and capable of enthralling and leading people to their deaths with her voice is optional, but might totally come in handy.
> 
> My askbox is always open for prompts at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	111. Coulson/Darcy, Reports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ree923: Great! I am a huge Phil/Darcy shipper so if you can write something where he realizes that he has feelings for her and surprises her with a romantic dinner (and kissy time)? Maybe she finds her way there via a series of scavenger hunt letters where he is the prize?
> 
> I didn’t quite get what you wanted, but this is what came out during training at work.

"Miss Lewis, I have not required an assistant for many years, it is unlikely that SHIELD sent you to be one." Coulson shuffles a few of his own papers together.

"I would assume that would be because most of SHIELD s aware of your status of actually being a living human being." Darcy retorts and tries to take care of the paper out of his hands, "So let me take care of the work so that more people don’t recognize your particular writing style on reports." Darcy smiles and lifts her eyebrows.

She’s not standing like she wants a job. She edges closer to him, her head dipped low and leaning into his space. There’s a story here in how she tracked him down and thats not nearly as interesting as why she did.

"I don’t need an assistant." He lets just a slip of a smile cross his face, carefully measured to gauge her response.

"That’s what you think," she huffs and steps a little closer. Young and forward, comfortable in taking up his space.

"That’s what I know," he assures her, "But if you want to help, why don’t you make dinner reservations for tonight?"

Darcy whips out her phone to take notes and asks, “No problem, where do you want to go and who are you taking?”

"You," He takes his paperwork from Darcy’s momentarily shocked hands, "I’ll see you at 7, and nothing too formal."


	112. bucky/darcy/steve, stargazing

Darcy’s fingers rake through Bucky’s hair, her nails disappearing and appearing, flashing like stars in his dark hair. Steve can’t help but watch from his spot next to them, his oldest friend and one of his newest, get along as if she’d been stuck in the tenement right with them.

"You’re making a mess of it," Bucky says, and Steve’s throat tightens at the sea change of his voice. It’s soft and sly, the kind of dark that entices more, and despite his curiosity, it’s never been directed at Steve. Bucky’s eyes move from Darcy’s to his with a smile and with an unexpected questioning to them. He knows that Steve has a little thing, doesn’t know it’s for both of them, Steve’s kept that to himself.

Steve drowned with grief and he awoke to it. He found that his grief for what he lost with Peggy and for Bucky were the same. He can be proud to watch Bucky rebuild this time. It’s not what he wants, but it’s happy all the same. He still has Bucky.

The constellation of her hands still when Bucky leans up and kisses her and draws her into his lap. Steve straightens to leave, but a cold hand reaches out to stop him.

"Don’t go," Bucky says with longing and a fear that Steve’s never heard from him before.

"But…." he says, and a smaller hand joins the other.

"Don’t go," Darcy says quietly, "It was already messy to begin with."

Bucky’s hand slips up his thigh, Steve still can’t pull his eyes away from Darcy’s hand and her fingernails but has presence enough to carefully slide and angle his body so he can lean over and watch as his own pale fingers disappear and reappear like stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jadzia prompted with bucky/darcy/steve, stargazing
> 
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	113. darcy/steve, cherry stems

"You should try it, it’s not like it’s hard," Darcy dangles the cherry from her shake in front of Steve. It’s been a long night, and it had been even longer before he pulled Darcy out of the bar and into a corner diner for her to sober up.

"Why would I want to try to tie the stem into a know?" Steve asks with amused exasperation. Steve’s not sure what to call her outfit, if there’s a word for her tight sleeveless shirt, cut low and the sequins that ring the neckline hug the curves of her more than generous cleavage. Steve tries not to look too long, but she’s right out there, not paying attention to her comportment, and his attention wavers.

Drunk Darcy grins broadly, noticing how his eyes wander, and lays her head down on her outstretched arm, “It’ll give me all sorts of useful information,” she tucks a stray hair back behind her ears, “Very important things that I need to know.”

"What could you possibly figure out from that?" Steve says and dubiously takes the proffered cherry.

Darcy’s eyes focus with intent, as if she hasn’t been drinking, as if she were sober. “Well, how well you can use your tongue. It’s a good start.”

Steve coughs, ” I think we are going to have to have a talk later,” and pops the cherry into his mouth, stem and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted me with: Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton or Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers: cherry stems  
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	114. clint/darcy, shoulder massage

"You okay?"

Darcy vaguely recognizes Barton from the aftermath of New Mexico and from video footage from New York. She stretches her back and neck, lifting and joining her hands together abaci her head. The back of the van is cramped, and she and Barton have to share space with the salvaged equipment, all that could be grabbed after she Jane tried to fend off the AIM raid. “Landed on my shoulder funny,” she says, “And then I couldn’t move for a few hours.”

"When we get, we can have medical look at it." Barton reassures her and it’s okay, at least until they hit a bump in the road. She’s jostled around and it hurts enough that she groans. "Geez, let me — take off that jacket."

She does, gingerly dropping it on the floor of the van, and then she feels a light touch over her shoulderblade, right along the bone, until he finds a knot, and the pressure increases.

Darcy backs into the touch and drops her head back in relief. Clint redirects her head back to neutral, gentle, but there’s a tension there, she thinks. The knot releases and he moves her shoulder and finds her range of motion. He’s done, but he lingers and takes his time resettling them on the bench seat.

"You want to sleep the rest off?" Barton asks.

The adrenaline drop happened over a half hour ago and the pain was the only thing that was keeping her awake. Barton holds out his arm and Darcy is more than willing to spend some time against him. She as close and comfortable as she can get while she’s buckled up in a van.

She’s almost asleep when she hears, “You did well, girlie, time to relax.” She thinks she might try to look Barton up again later, because she really doesn’t want to leave the spot she’s found herself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> puffabilly prompted: Clint/Darcy - shoulder massage  
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	115. Clint/Darcy, winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wordsmithdee prompted: Darcy/Clint, winter  
> Contains Thor 2 spoilers
> 
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)

"When you said you called SHIELD, who did you really call?" Jane asks, five days later after Thor came back, this time in a much shorter timescale. It’s a rare moment where she’s not wrapped around a giant chunk of blonde god.

"Uh," Darcy says, "Well, first I totally star 69’ed from that time they called us, but they didn’t pick up, and then I remembered I scammed Coulson’s number when he wasn’t look," Darcy considers this for a moment, "And then, I called that and the guy who picked up said that Agent Coulson was dead and also how did I get this number, and who the hell do I think I am, and really just a lot of angry swearing."

Jane gestures to the window, “You should look outside.”

Outside, there is a mix of snow and sleet, slowly turning to slush on the ground. It’s pretty in the air and disgusting on the grass. Across the street there is also a nondescript van, and a figure in a dark peacoat and a fucking bow slung across broad shoulders. He’s waiting with a foot up against the vehicle, just waiting for Darcy to notice.

"It’s also possible that the angry swearing came from that Agent Barton guy that Selvig knows and I may have told him where we were." Darcy admits. And okay, so they were trying to stay of of SHIELD’s radar before this all happened, and that probably isn’t going to happen now, and Agent Barton waves two fingers at her.

Darcy waves back with a pitiful expression. Barton starts walking towards the building, the snow wisping between his limbs and landing on his head, his shoulders slumped forward. The sliver of a skin that shows on his neck is vulnerable and Darcy knows that he’s not here in any sort of official capacity.

"Hey Jane, I think you might want to put on the tea. And maybe some of Erik’s crazy pills." Darcy heads towards the door, "We’re going to need them."


	116. bucky/darcy/steve, biggest fears

Darcy Lewis is not the type of person that likes to sit back and wait. There is always something she could be doing, must be doing, has a responsibility to do. It’s a trait she shares with the men she loves, a reason they’ve crossed generations and found each other. They all have this direct inability to just stand still.

Being told she just has to wait things out, that someone else will take care of the problem? That’s not a situation she can handle. Not even when the person taking care of the problem is Steve. But especially when the problem is James. Her James, that she watched form himself back from being just a shell of a person, fill his insides anew with everything he could handle.

And it’s all just been sucked out like marrow from bones.

Darcy isn’t a fighter. She can be a finder, or find the insight that no one else sees, and she’s a doer, but there’s nothing here to do. It’d be too dangerous to go out after James, who, before he leapt out the window, raided her vanity and marked his eyes over with her darkest smokey black. He didn’t realize it had glitter in it and she can still see the sparkle on his cheekbones as the last bit of light hit him before he was unable to be seen.

She’d seen it on the floor, from where he’d knocked her over when she discovered him, and the bruising on her shoulders caused Steve to darken and grind his teeth. “I just need you to stay safe, sweetheart.” That dark look, that shadow vibrates through her blood and she knows that staying safe might mean losing someone for good.

Every passing moment means less chance of having both her men home and whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jadzia asked for: d/b/s biggest fears  
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	117. Clint/Darcy, no goodbye underneath my ring

It came with in a little box and was pushed into her hands by Natasha on the tenth day after Clint’s check in came and went. Natasha hadn’t said a word to her, but it went unsaid that this was always in the cards. Darcy hasn’t opened it, the plain brown hinged box taunting her as she turns it over and over in his hands.

"You should open it," Jane says, her eyes only slightly less rimshot than Darcy’s.

"I knew it was coming, you know. For a guy that lives in shadows, he telegraphs everything." It’s such a little box, Darcy can easily turn it over with just a couple of fingers. "I’ll wait until Clint can open it himself, if I open it now, I’m just saying that he’s gone and this is a final goodbye from him." Darcy put the box on her bookshelf, "He can give it to me himself."

The box slowly develops a a thick layer of dust. First on the lid, then thinner on the sides.

Clint shakes off the dust, over a half a year later and wipes the dust off with his thumb, a decided limp when he goes to lean against the bookshelf. He rubs it against the fabric of his sweats, making sure that its as bright as the night he first showed it to Natasha before he left.

He opens the box and smiles, raising his voice above the croak he’s barely been able to manage, “Hey, Darce?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompt: fic prompt: clint/darcy or steve/darcy - no goodbye underneath my ring  
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	118. bucky/darcy, first meeting

He throws Steve out that morning. The conflicting feelings of target, pity, guilt and Steve’s overwhelming earnestness is tearing James’s head apart. Steve may have only been trying to help, but he helped like he was still fifteen and trying to be right when he doesn’t have the capability to back it up. It was endearing when they were kids, it is frustrating now.

His therapist has him identifying his feelings so that he can properly work through them when they arise. James dutifully assigns this moment a name, titles is jealousy. Steve gets to be the man he always wanted to be. Bucky, while always a scrapper and willing to do what needed to be done, gets to be the man he despised. And a suite that locks from the outside is still a cell, even if it has far more comfort than what he deserves.

He hears the door unlock and open, and he expects to see Steve again, or maybe Natalia — Natasha, who visits him every so often, sometimes with the stern faces and focused Barton behind her, leaving with his arm around her shoulder. It’s not supposed to be mocking, but of all the things he wants, it seems like there are none he’s allowed to have. Friends, lovers, freedom.

Instead, it’s a young woman with impeccable eyebrows and five layers of clothing, clutching a metallic train case against her chest. Her hair is pulled back (easy to grab and push her down, his mind supplies) and she tilts her head at him. “So I’m Darcy,” she says by way of introduction, moving to the table and setting down the case, opening it up and pulling out clippers, a razor, and stands a few things up in the case, “Barton said that you had about twenty years of indifferent personal hygiene and boy he wasn’t wrong.”

Darcy pulls out a chair, “Sit.”

"Barton sent you? To give me a haircut?" He carefully doesn’t move from where he’s standing.

"Not exactly," Darcy’s mouth and eyebrows move in opposite directions, "But I overheard quite clearly that you are in desperate need of the skills I learned when I took cosmetology my senior year of high school." She points to the chair, "Sit."

It’s a relief not to be treated like he’s an eggshell with the yolk sucked out, and honestly, also to be given an order that he can follow so he sits and lets the girl run her fingers through his hair. The hair begins to fall onto the floor and his head feels lighter and as she keeps going, helps him to shave and really wash his face, even his skin feels new.

He doesn’t look like himself, because he’s not sure who he is supposed to look like, but he doesn’t look like he’s a half-thawed assassin.

"Well, look at you, handsome." Darcy preens, "I’m pretty damn impressed with myself. Do you want me to get some metal polish? I can totally make your arm shine too."

It’s worth a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notcranky prompted: Bucky/Darcy - first meeting after Winter Soldier deprogramming?
> 
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	119. darcy/steve, falling star

There’s a television station on extended cable, one of those satellite stations that only people with cash enough for a million channels can get, but it shows shaky cellphone and news copter footage of Avengers battles that happen in public spaces. It’s like the NASA channel for superhero geeks, and Darcy is addicted.

"Thor is literally living with us, isn’t that enough?" Jane mutters one morning in her mothers London flat, "Do you really need to watch the same twenty youtube clips every day?"

"There are currently five people living in this place, and one is roughly the size of of three people, if you account for his sheer presence as well, I am going to take comfort where I can." Darcy retorts, "And that comfort comes in counting the amount of times I watch Captain America’s shield bounce of buildings and weird alien bugs in any given fight." Darcy counts the bouncing like skipping rocks on a pond. She once saw it go ten times. Captain America has got to be amazing at pool to know his trajectory like that. She can’t get enough of the way that the shield moves through the air, as sure of the target as though the metal was living and breathing. It spins, and the only thing she can see clearly is the star at the center when it falls back to Cap.

Darcy’s a bit of a nerd. She knows that, and while she’s not the brains of the operation here, she wouldn’t stay with Jane if she didn’t think physics was beautiful.

"Well, help me clean up at least. Because a couple of your television companions are on their way." Jane looks disgruntled, probably because the last two weeks of nonstop science and a locked bedroom are coming to a close.

*

Captain America is impressive up close.

See, Darcy has this thing about heroics. She loves them, she loves the people behind them. And they get her a little hot. Those couple of makeout sessions with Ian had fizzled after the danger had past into a comfortable relationship, even if he sometimes peered at her with longing.

He’s cute, he’s sweet, and he’s not done anything approaching heroic since throwing a car to protect her. Unless you count cleaning the bathroom, which did warrant a hug at least.

But Steve, oh man, the man exudes heroism. Even sitting on the couch, head on his chin, waiting for Thor and Jane to finish up. No one is naive enough to think they are playing parcheesi in the bedroom. Selvig and Ian have already made their excuses and found reasons to be out of the flat this night.

Darcy’s eyes keep drifting over to him, and catches his once or twice drifting over to her. Darcy quickly turns on the television, and kind of groans when she realizes what channel it is still queued to.

Steve knits his eyebrows together, leaning forward just a little bit, “Is that me?” The video being shown is a low quality, shaky cell phone shot of one of the many times Cap’s fallen out of the sky, shield first. “Huh, no wonder SHIELD has a fit every time I do that. I look like I should be dead very shortly.” TV-Cap lands solidly, and his shield is the only that’s visible in the video.

Heroics. Darcy looks at Steve with admiration, and he’s not going to be easily cowed like Ian was. She’s gonna have to work on this one.

Should be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merideathislost prompted: Steve/Darcy: falling star  
> a little something for Meri, because I <3 her like a sister
> 
> My tumblr askbox is always open at [ twistedingenue](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com/ask)


	120. steve/darcy, word association game

"This is a stupid game," Darcy is downright frustrated. The lack of food, the foul tasting water, is really starting to get to her. The company is nice at least, but the accommodations could use some work. Like say a window.

"Keeps your mind sharp," Steve says clearly, "try again. Slingshot?"

Darcy waves her hand, “Dennis the Menace? I don’t know Steve, this game is stupid and I don’t want to play anymore.”

"Just trying to keep you occupied," he says, quieter, and Darcy strains to hear him through the wall between the two cells. "Hell of a first date."

"Could have gone better," Darcy agrees. "I’m willing to try again when we get out of here, though."

"That’s good." Darcy wishes she could see his face right now, wants that window because she swears she can hear him smiling. "Helicopter."

"Steve, I just said I don’t want to play anymore, give it a rest!"

"No, Darcy, I hear a helicopter. Sit tight, we might just get home in time for a good night kiss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: typhoidmeri asked Steve/Darcy: word association game.


	121. clint/darcy, stranges names

It’s not often that Clint is actually early to class, but he made a point of it after catching a glimpse of the last girl out last Friday. He’s a sucker for brunettes (and blondes, and redheads, and maybe he’s just a sucker for women in general) and even more for ones that he overhears arguing with her professor.

He slips into the classroom while she’s talking to the instructor again, and tries to find an opening, but comes up short. Clint lays his head down for a second until she passes by him and he stops her.

He still has nothing to say, and because he’s a smooth as shit he latches on to the only thing that leaps out to him, which is literally the writing on the wall. “Why the hell did you guys write vagina over and over again on the chalkboard?”

The girl adjusts her glasses, “It’s Latin,” she says, rolling her eyes, “It means sheath, a place to put a sword.”

King of Smooth. “I got a sword.” Clint is an idiot and the words die on his lips. “Shit, I mean. Hi. I’m Clint.”

"Darcy," and hey, getting a name from that stupidity, that he’ll take, "And I’m sure you do." She runs out the door, but she looks back and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: shadowscar asked for "Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton: weirdest names for geniltalia (my mind is a strange place)"
> 
> okay, honestly — I’ve been staring at this prompt for 3 months and all my mind keeps going to is something modified from my college experience. SO LETS USE THAT AND MAKE IT INTO A CHEESY PICKUP LINE.
> 
> LATIN IS FUN.


	122. steve/darcy, fanfiction

Steve is not a good snooper. Spying is not his trade in life, and he’ll leave that job up to the skilled professionals. He’s more of a frontal attack sort of guy, maybe a flanker. Or drop in and fuck your shit up, as the kids say these days.

But he isn’t above snooping. Not when Darcy’s barely left her computer in the past three days, and despite her careful bored expression, she’s reading with intent. And his name keeps appearing on the screen. Well, not his name, but his other name, the one that everyone knows.

"What are you reading?" he asks, hanging over her shoulder. Darcy’s back straightens and she goes to shut the laptop, but Steve stops it with his hand.

"If I said nothing, would you believe me?" she closes her eyes tight, biting her lips, it’s adorable. Darcy has a wide face that just brims full of expression.

"Nope," he kisses the top of her head and moves the laptop so he can read. Huh. "Is that physically possible?"

"Probably not," Darcy sighs, "If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure this was written by a 14 year old who hasn’t had sex yet. And yet…."

"People write stories about me? Me and …."

"Pretty much everyone else yeah. I avoided the ones about Thor and Jane, because I don’t need to read that, I live that every night."

There’s something wistful about her voice, “Pretty much everyone else?” he prompts.

"Nobody knows who I am. Or they just don’t care. It’s a pity though, sometimes they get quite good."

Steve picks her up straight from her chair, throwing her over his shoulder and finding bare skin to touch, “Come on, I’ll show you good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: jowinchester asked: Darcy/Steve Steve finds Darcy reading Avengers!Fic


	123. bucky/darcy, pillows and stuffed animals

"Why are there 10 pillows and 20 stuffed animals on my bed?"

"That’s an awfully big assumption you are making there," Darcy answers, poking at Bucky, "it’s my bed you know. This is my guest bedroom. Emphasis on guest. You’ve been here for months. I’m reclaiming it, Bucky."

"With this assortment of crap?" he balks. He doesn’t think he could go back to living with Steve or Natasha, not with the way they look at him. Darcy didn’t know him before or during his time away, and it’s been refreshing.

Darcy’s apartment isn’t quiet, there’s always people around, or at least loud music or the television, but it is the type of loud that drowns out memories. And then he had to fuck it up the other night.

He kissed Darcy, right there on the couch, pushed her down against the arm and thought she kissed back for just a moment. But her hand came up on his prosthesis and stalled. It was long enough that he pulled himself back up, bounding over the couch and running into his room.

His room which is now the guest room. Well that’s a clear indication of where she wanted that kiss to go.

Steve doesn’t snore anymore, doesn’t wheeze in the night, he can go there. “I’ll just get my things then.”

"Or," Darcy drawls out in a sing-song, "You could stay and maybe just change beds? I mean, not tonight, I can take the crap off, but —"

He tries the kissing thing again and this time, there’s not stalling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: rolodexthoughts asked: Darcy/Bucky "Why are there 10 pillows and 20 stuffed animals on my bed"


	124. bucky/darcy/steve, first dinner

It’s just dinner. She’s had dinner a few dozen times with them, and so many of them between Steve and Bucky. This isn’t anything new. It’s just - it’s dinner with the same people who saw two days earlier that Steve and Bucky haven’t just survived to the modern world but thrived, eager to be part of it. Beneath the jokes (Tony and Clint) and a bittersweet half smile from Natasha that just about broke Darcy when she realized what it was she was seeing out of the corner of her eyes, everyone seems to walk a little on eggshells around them.

It’s just dinner. It’s just dinner with your boyfriends and all their friends. If she didn’t already know them, it would be like meeting the parents. And boy, that’s going to be an entirely different dinner, when she tries to explain to her parents this whole, “I’m seeing two men who are also seeing each other” thing. Her parents couldn’t even handle seeing each other.

Dinner with the Avengers just got a whole lot easier. Particularly since she’s seated between Steve and Bucky, their thighs pressed against hers, Steve’s hand on hers underneath the table. She’s mostly just pushing around her salad, just waiting for the first person to say something.

"Monogamy is just so overrated," Tony lofts, hoisting a wine glass up and swirling it like the ass he loves to play at.

"Don’t press your luck," Pepper says back with a saccharine sweet smile, "You had your fun for years."

Darcy feels her shoulders fall slightly. Was that a jab, that this is just something she has to get out of her system. Like this is anything like Tony’s lifetime of self-destructive behavior.

"Don’t read into it, doll," Bucky leans over and whispers to her, "No one is worried about us. Maybe a little jealous. Who wouldn’t be, with you two taking up all of the pretty in the room?"

Steve squeezes her hand and Darcy picks up her fork to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: typhoidmeri asked: Steve/Darcy/Bucky: first dinner with the team after they have found out about their complicated relationship. The boys don't care but Darcy is nervous.


	125. bucky/darcy, the more things change

"I’m just not sure I want to be ordered around anymore Steve," Bucky paces the length of the room in a meandering gait, "It’s not about the people you work with, or how moral and upstart you all are."

"I’m not sure you can call any of us moral or upstart," Steve retorts, trying to catch his arm when he strides past. "You know us, at least some of us. Some more than others," Steve grins, "We’re all troublemakers."

"And that’s fine!" Bucky stops and presses articulated fingers on Steve’s arm, "If it were you, just you, I’d join up in an instant. I’ll always follow you." There’s promise in his grip and in his gaze, "You I trust to give orders. Anyone else? Hell no."

The door opens, Darcy walking in, throwing her bookbag on the floor before sinking into a chair, “Cramming all my classes into two days was a stupid idea.” Bucky can’t help but smile at the differences between their worries.

"You don’t want to be used again." Steve says with a low voice.

"No." He replies with finality.

"Okay, okay," Steve accepts. That’s the good thing about Steve, he can adapt to information quicker than most. His arm wraps over Bucky’s shoulder, "So, what are you going to do?"

This is the part that has left Bucky in a lurch for the past week, ever since SHIELD came and asked if he wanted to join up. Because while Winter Soldier and Sargent Barnes are both highly skilled people (and the same person) within a specific field, Bucky is not. Bucky’s the kid who picked up odd jobs at the docks, lifted heavy things for neighbors, and did any dirty work that needed to be done. Steve was the one with a marketable skill, even if it was just drawing pictures. It was more than what he had, still has.

"I don’t know. Not much call for wet work specialists on the up and up, is there? Are there still hobos? I could do that."

Darcy laughs from her chair, “James, sweetie?”

"Are you funning me, miss?" He turns his attention to their girl on the chair.

"You have a very old problem, old man, but thankfully, the solution was worked out a very long time ago," Darcy finally takes off her coat and walks towards the two, kissing both of them on the cheeks, "Do you have any idea what your GI Bill covered? You are owned so many benefits, it’s not even funny."

"I don’t…."

"Look, you know what most soldiers did when they returned home? They went into trade, they got good jobs, they went to school on the GI bill. They got amazing home loans to settle down with. The government didn’t want a repeat of what happened after the First World War, after all." Darcy shakes her head, "Go to school, Bucky. That’s how most people acquire skills that the job market says we need. There’s another rant in there, but that’s how it’s supposed to work." She rests her hands behind his neck, over Steve’s, "You wanna take some classes with me? Fool around in the library?"

Bucky might just like that idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anonymous asked: Darcy/Bucky the more things change, the more they stay the same


	126. Clint/Darcy, ain't it like us

Darcy only switched her ringtone back this afternoon, a generic ring while she figures out what song fits her mood in the morning. So when it rings at two in the morning, it’s just three tones over and over again until her hand snakes out of the covers and she groggily answers, “I swear to God Jane, you gave me the night off. A whole night where I didn’t have to get up to track stars, I am going to hang up….”

"Not Jane," Clint interrupts Darcy’s sleep drenched monolog.

"Clint," she groans, rolling over in the bed, lifting her hair out of her eyes, "Clint do you have any idea what time it is?"

"To be honest, I’m not even sure what time zone it is," Clint responds with just a hint of a slur, "Five ops in the past month, I’m only certain that I’m on Earth."

"What do you want Clint?" Darcy yawns into her cell phone.

"Well, At least I think I’m on Earth." Clint patters like he hasn’t heard her, "I’m pretty certain of that. Mostly. I mean, where else could I be?"

"If you don’t get to your point, I’m going to hang up and turn off the ringer, and then where will you be?"

"Number 3 on my speed dial?" Well, that’s, huh, Darcy’s number 2? Natasha has got to be number 1, obviously, but Darcy never made that assumption that she even rates a top spot, much less that position. "Am I not allowed to call?"

"It’s two in the morning, Francis. All I want is to sleep, and not to talk and you are inhibiting both of these things."

Clint’s silent for a moment, “I just, I needed. God, this is stupid. Just like me, have a drink, get some courage,” he says, rushing through his words as he gathers momentum. “You know what, never mind.”

"Clint, what did you want to tell me?" The hair on the back of her neck pricks up, anticipating some trouble, something like he isn’t come back for another month or two, or at all.

"I’m being reassigned," his words run into each other, "Out to California to oversee the formation of a response team."

"Oh," her voice is small and her bed is cold, "Then I guess this is a call to say…."

"Come with me. I know that Jane is stationary at Culver right now, and she’s got that other intern to do the science. Come with me out to California Darce, please baby girl?"

Now it’s Darcy’s turn for silence and the warmth returns to her bed and the bottom of her throat, “I’ll have to clear a few things, check them out at a respectable hour. But if I can, I will, babe.”

"I —" Clint starts and Darcy can hear his dopey grin over the phone, along with Natasha goading him to get up and get moving, "That’s what I needed. I need to go, and I’ll let you sleep but, thank you. Thank you."

The line is silent, but Darcy is wide awake now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: fic prompt: steve/darcy or clint/darcy - ain't it just like one of us to pick up the phone and call after a couple drinks  
> You can find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	127. bucky/darcy/steve, skinny dipping

"You are such a worrywart," Darcy says, treading water in front of Steve, the water coming up in little waves right at the crest of her breasts, "Who cares if anyone else sees us?"

There’s a deep splash and Darcy yelps as she’s pulled back tight against Bucky’s chest. “He’s always been like this,” He says half into Darcy’s ears but mostly for Steve’s benefit, “Oh sure, he’d fight until he was half dead by himself, but always wanted to be the lookout when everyone decided to get into trouble.”

Steve’s sole concession to Darcy and Bucky wanting to take a midnight dip in the heated pool at the top of the tower, is his pants legs rolled up to his knees. His feet dangle in the water, drawing circles and figure eights. He does laugh at the pairs antics, at Darcy squirming away from Bucky by shaking her head into his face. The droplets drip off of him, off his nose and off his chin, onto his chest before he takes off after her.

Even in the dark, the water is clear and he can watch their outlines, unencumbered by any stitch of clothing or suit, as they revolve around each other, meeting for a grab and a kiss.

Steve doesn’t mean to lose track of them, but the water is nice, and he closes his eyes to enjoy for just a moment. And it’s a peaceful moment right up until the wave hits him, soaking his clothes and his hair. When he opens his eyes, it’s to Darcy perched on Bucky’s shoulders, smiling wickedly, her hair flat against her face, her neck, and it tries to cover her bare breasts, but there’s just not enough.

"Oh darn, you got wet," she says, "Whatever shall we do about that."

There’s no hope for them, he thinks, and pulls his shirt off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Steve x Darcy X Bucky; skinny dipping.  
> You can find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	128. Clint/Darcy, I feel a sin comin on

He’s been flirting from across the room all night, not resorting to anything amateurish like buying her a drink with his compliments. No, the harsh yet boyish face man has just been quietly assessing her while he plays pool with some not too friendly rowdy bro boys. Darcy nurses her drink a little while longer, even though she meant to move on half an hour ago, because damn if those steeled eyes don’t hold so much that she can work with.

Darcy should make some sort of move, good things may come to those who wait, but she’s all about the grabbing the ball by the horns, if she’s going to mix her cliches around. There’s a jukebox just past the pool table, and if her hand runs along the edge, well, that’s just the crowd of the bar.

And okay, Darcy isn’t subtle by any means, because she shimmies past the man with her ass brushing against his thighs. She doesn’t linger because she isn’t crude, just wants to let him know she’s interested in hearing more.

Darcy doesn’t even know what she chooses from the jukebox. It’s all loaded with classics anyway, all good, not a dollar wasted.

When she passes back, he slides up behind her, his face leaning in close to hers, “I’m not any good at pick-up lines,” he says, “so I don’t have anything witty to try to impress you with.”

"Lines are for guys who don’t got game anyways," Darcy responds, "How’s your hustle?"

He laughs like gravel, pitched perfectly to her ear and he rests his hands on her hips. It’s not possessive, but he has sure, warm hands that she can feel through the thin layer of her dress, “I do alright. Enough to get a name?”

"Darcy," she says, "Why don’t you come over and sit with me after you win, then?"

"It’s Clint," his face relaxes and he tilts his head to the dudebros, "I’ve just been stringing them along. I can win anytime."

"Then why don’t you?" she teases, letting her fingertips dance at his jeans. Good lord, this is going to be fun.

"Fun’s in the chase, sweetheart," he spins her around, sending her back to the bar, "But there’s art in catching."

Darcy settles back at the bar, Clint’s voice rustling louder saying, “Well boys, why don’t we make this a little more interesting?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohvafltn asked for Something inspired by the song " I feel a sin coming on" by the pistol annies. Darcy/your choice
> 
> You can find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	129. Bucky/Darcy, paper cut

Bucky can’t stop laughing, “Oh hold the phones—”

"I don’t think you really hold a phone like that anymore —" Darcy tries to interject, digging around the cabinet.

"Hold the phones, Lewis," he repeats, leaning both hands on the counter to keep himself from falling over, "You’ve walked in on Barton stitching himself up, Stark counting his bruises, and you’ve seen me literally put myself back together. And you are freaking out —"

"I am not freaking out, this is a perfectly normal response!" She finds the box she’s looking for and pulls it out. Bucky intercepts it from her hands, holding it high above her.

"It’s a paper cut, woman. Never mind what you’ve seen from everyone else, you’ve personally and very calmly wrapped up a gash when one of Fosters homegrown machines exploded. This is not a match response to a paper cut."

"Paper cuts hurt," Darcy holds up her finger, completely aware of which one was sliced on her paperwork, "There’s one thing missing to make it better."

"Oh yeah?" Bucky ducks his head, but not the box of bandaids, and takes her hand.

"Obviously, you need to kiss it and make it better." Darcy shrugs, "That’s the appropriate response."

"Oh, well, if it’s appropriate, I guess I have to do it." His lips are warm against her skin, and it’s true, it does make her feel a little bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posh-brit-guys-are-hot asked: Darcy/Bucky papercut. Coz papercut is HELL and Darcy just got the motherload of papecuts. Luckily Bucky is there to save the day :))
> 
> You can find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	130. Clint/Darcy, purple cookies

"What the hell did you do to the sugar cookies, Barton?" Darcy storms into the common area, heavy boots hitting the floor, well, the word is loudly. "Don’t you dare deny that it was you, jackass."

"I don’t know what you are talking about," Clint says with an absolutely calm and straight face. Yep, jackass.

"My cookies are disgusting looking."

Clint knits his eyebrows, “No, I added blue and red drops, they should look awesome.”

Of course that was his intent. He wanted purple cookies. Of course he did. Darcy closes her eyes, “Clint, did you put drops of food coloring in from the ceiling?” she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. He has the sense of mind to look impish at the very least, “Clint, you dropped it in without even telling me. After the dough was mostly made. The cookies are mostly just spots. You have to re-knead the dough if you add color at that point, so that it gets spread around.”

She walks further into the room and urges him up from where he was sitting, “Come on jackass, let’s make some purple cookies for you.”

"You’ve got enough left to make more?" Clint asks, and Darcy’s no slouch, she knows he’s letting her move him.

"I will, if you help me make them," and she smiles as he drapes an arm across her shoulders, letting her lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kitkatcabbit asked: Darcy/Clint, purple cookies- whether or not they're actually *supposed* to be purple.
> 
> You can find me and prompt me at [ my tumblr](http://www.twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	131. Darcy & Pepper, Scientist rangling

"I think we got stood up," Darcy pushes at her salad, looking over at Pepper. Dinner was supposed to be an hour ago, and while they both were used to giving a little leeway, this was ridiculous.

"I thought Jane might temper things out a bit. She seems at least a bit more responsible," Pepper agrees, her mouth thinning out to a line.

"Oh she is in her personal life," Darcy concedes, "But you have to remember, Jane is Stark with a budget. She’s Ginger Rogers, anything Tony can do, she can figure out backwards and in heels and with only grant money."

"I shudder to think of what Tony could have accomplished if only he had to go through poor starving grad student," Pepper deadpans and then kicks herself, because well, Tony has performed under the worst of circumstances in far better than merely moderate ways. "He might at least be more aware of his budget."

"So, do we go and wrangle them up, knock on the glass a few times, tell them to put away their toys for the night?" Darcy picks up her glass of wine, pausing before she drinks it, "I think Bruce came out to play too."

Pepper very carefully picks up her glass and downs it, as smooth as if it were water. “Oh look, I can’t possibly drive back to the tower and Happy has the night off.”

Darcy follows suit, girls' night seems like a blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> neverbegoneforgood asked: Darcy Rangling Bruce, Jane and Tony away from SCIENCE! Pepper can help, if you want
> 
> You can send me prompts at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	132. bucky/darcy/steve, Mr  Rogers, Mr Barnes & Ms Lewis

"Let’s play a game, shall we boys?" Darcy announces, walking into the bedroom with a bag straining with the weight of its contents. Her dress is conservative, although much showier than her normal attire, "How much of this…" she dumps the bag onto the bed, inching away as some very sharp pointy objects tumble out, "We can get underneath this dress without causing any unnatural lumps."

Both Steve’s and Bucky’s grins are predatory while they slide hands up her body, strapping thin flat knives and and wireless mic and a tiny video camera. They both linger long and eventually resort to lips when it becomes dangerous to let their large hands run over her body.

"Stop, you’re gonna muss me up." She laughs and points out the time, "We have to get going for this op, we can play later." The men grab their coats and help Darcy into hers, "Well, come along Mister Barnes, Beautiful Day."

Steve and Bucky exchange a look, both confused and inquisitive, “Darcy, I don’t quite get that…”

"Mister Rogers?" Darcy shakes her head, linking her arms in theirs, "There is so much I still need to introduce you to after we are done. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day in the neighborhood…." she sings as they step out, ready to take the world by storm once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: lady-cheeky asked: because of a lovely photo-set I just saw, how about a Mr. Rogers & Mr. Barnes & Ms. Lewis fic. (Mr. & Mrs. Smith, but with the OT3)


	133. Bruce/darcy, girl with a past

You work hard, you are supposed to get ahead. And Darcy’s worked damned hard to get ahead in life and still, she cannot get a break. She has to get away, make like a hiker and leave no trace.

"Look, I’m not sure I’m the one you need to be talking to here, I really just lucked into…" Bruce wavers when Darcy approaches him, "Whats wrong, maybe we can help."

"It’s really not the sort of thing that superheros can deal with." Darcy blinks and lays her hands on his arms, "I need to disappear. You eluded anyone finding for for a good long time and that’s with the whole rage monster thing."

"We can deal with monsters and aliens and terrorists and help old ladies cross the street, Darcy. What’s out there that you can’t —"

"If I tell you, the only thing I can promise you is that nothing pleasant will happen again to you. " Darcy snaps, shaking because she can feel the air start to change, harbingers and signal and portents. "You can’t die, and that’s usually what happens to the people I’ve told. No, Bruce, I’m gone. If you can’t help me, then…well, you won’t see me again." She reaches for his face, trying to steady herself, "It was real nice knowing you."

Darcy’s always been a woman of impulse though, and she can’t leave well enough alone and she knows she should close every door. She leans in and kisses Bruce quickly before she starts gathering her things.

"Wait," Bruce says, stumbling as he reaches out, "Wait, this problem, it’s not. It’s not exactly physical is it?"

Darcy pauses, letting herself take deep breathes to fill her chest, “I’m listening.”

"I might know a guy, he’s a little strange, but…he might be able to help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Anonymous asked: Here's a prompt: Darcy lewis a girl with a past, no one knows much of her not even jane, but now her past has come back to haunt her… (darcy knows the avengers Relationship: tasersmash )
> 
> You can send me prompts at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	134. bucky/darcy/steve, what happens on mission

It happens like this:

It’s not a love triangle. Well, actually, it kind of is because it’s actually pretty well balanced. Darcy is stupidly infatuated with both Bucky and Steve and those two are totally into each other, but there’s this thing about bisexuality? You get crushes on ladies frequently too, even when you bang your best friend from the 1940s on the regular. You just don’t usually do anything about them.

Honestly, it’s not like there’s something new under the sun. People had sex in olden days. They even had threesomes. Well, Steve and Bucky didn’t, but other people did.

Point of fact, the boys are not repressed.

But when it goes down (oh look, Darcy, a pun!) it starts because of the oldest spy cliche in the book.

"Shit!" Darcy snaps her head back, following the sound of heavy footfalls. She’s standing guard with Steve over a kneeling Bucky as he attempts to jimmie a lock open. A lock that wouldn’t need opening if she hadn’t managed to get herself chased around by some fairly nondescript bad guys. At least her rescuers aren’t inept. "How many?" she asks.

"Five," Steve responds, "You almost done there, Buck?"

"Nope." Bucky can make any word sound like fuck you.

"Need a distraction, then." He eyes Darcy for a quick moment, "Sorry about this." Steve positions her close enough to Bucky that her legs press up against his back. Darcy still doesn’t have the quickest reaction time in comparison to either man, and her squawk of indignation is masked by Steve putting his arm around her waist and pulling her to the tips of her toes.

The kissing starts rather politely, with just a hint of awkward, but something clicks inside Darcy — this is probably her one chance to kiss Steve, and even if it doesn’t mean anything other than saving their lives, it's a pretty swell reason to take advantage.

Whatever it is that clicks inside Darcy, the adrenaline, the crush she’s been harboring, what have you, takes over and she parts Steve’s lips and sweeps his mouth open. He shifts, and for a split second, Darcy thinks she’s going to be pushed away. But she isn’t, she isn’t and it’s wonderful and the only thing she’s going to think about is his irrepressible lips and his teasing tongue.

The guards pass by, only seeing a man making out with a woman. Out of sight, Steve breaks away. Darcy congratulates herself seeing Steve a little mussed and breathless.

"I’m done," Bucky announces, "Are you two? Do I get a turn with the lady later?" His voice is light, but it’s not teasing.

Darcy cannot wait to get home. Her life just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> typhoidmeri asked: Steve/Darcy/Bucky- What happens on a mission stays on the mission...except when....
> 
> You can send me prompts at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	135. Darcy/Natasha, eggnog

Her head is awfully close to the floor, Darcy thinks, and she can’t actually remember how she ended up backwards on the couch. It was probably very fun and maybe she’ll remember what was between point A and point C in the morning. She drops her hands to the floor, resting and stretching out her toes to a point at the crest of the couch.

A finger that feels like a claw swipes up the arch of her foot, startling Darcy and her feet fly over her head, and she rolls over herself and lands on her ass.

"That wasn’t very nice," she says, the world dancing around her, "I’m in a delicate condition."

"You are hungover, not pregnant. You will survive a little retaliation." Natasha says, coming to kneel alongside Darcy.

"What did I do to you?" Darcy shuts her eyes closed tight against the bright lights coming from the ceiling.

"It’s more along the lines of what you didn’t do." Natasha hand comes over to shield Darcy’s eyes, a much kinder gesture than Darcy probably deserves, "Because I know what you did do last night."

"In my defense, I really wanted to finish off the eggnog before it expired." Darcy gradually opens her eyes, and turns her head to look up at Natasha’s bemused and allowing face.

She tilts her head in response, “It is a crime to waste alcohol, even when it comes from the dairy department. But it is time to come to bed and fulfill your duty as a bedwarmer.”

"I knew I was forgetting something. How could I ever forget something so important. Obviously, I was just waiting for the right time." Darcy smiles brightly, "That time is now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: silverblaze85 asked: Don't know if this would interest you at all: Darcy/Natasha and eggnog?
> 
> You can send me prompts at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	136. Bucky/Darcy/Steve, kittens

It takes approximately one phone call and having to duck into someplace a little more private than a city street (the store is marginally more quiet, although not by much) and Steve turns back around and finds that Darcy has practically draped herself in cats and Bucky is no where to be seen.

"Steve, Steve, if ever the worst happens to you two, I am totally going to become a crazy cat lady." She says with a grin and a laugh in her voice.

"Jesus doll, you shouldn’t say things like that," Bucky comes up behind Steve, "You are perfectly capable of becoming a crazy cat lady right now."

"Nah, I don’t need so many if you guys are still around." She does start handing back the kittens, each small and pawing at her hair or each other, to and enclosed space and an attendant.

Steve looks around at the store they stepped into, one of those high end pet cafes apparently, decadent treats for dogs and cats (it’s something that Steve just can’t get over, and Bucky can’t either — you wouldn’t waste your money on pets like this when you were barely getting by), but it is hosting some sort of adoption event from a shelter. Darcy takes the longest with a little orange and white kitten that keeps bopping at her fingers and trying to climb up to Darcy’s shoulder.

"I think the little guy likes her," Bucky smiles, and it’s so good to see than on his face. He doesn’t smile as readily or as strong as Steve remembers, those broad grins just a ghost in his memory.

They are gone an awful lot. Days at a time and Darcy can’t even ask where they’ve gone, or when they will get back.

"You are sneaky, and with your coat you look like Natasha," Darcy picks up the kitten from her shoulder, looking it in the face, and doesn’t pay attention to the way Steve breaks a little watching her. They are going to need to pick up a few things, and Stark can deal with a little cat in the tower easy. Darcy can buy it whatever little treats she wants and he won’t complain. There’s more than enough to go around.

Bucky gets it, “I dare you to name it Nattie. It’ll drive her nuts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anonymous asked: Can I beg for a Bucky/Darcy/Steve fic? If it pleases the author, maybe involving kittens? *leaves baked goods in offering*
> 
> You can send me prompts at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	137. Clint/Darcy, bad intentions

He’s staring at her again. Not at any particular part of her, but just the whole of her, in the way that you look down an empty glass. It would be exhilarating, to be the focus of that much attention, Darcy thinks, if Clint hadn’t made his intentions perfectly clear two weeks ago. They were a no-go. Darcy’s done her due diligence, she’s stayed away. She’s not going to be the desperate younger girl, the groupie with a crush.

But he is not helping here, not with the way he looks at her here. Just trying to get a drink with the less public of the group. When they travel with Tony, they get the full service treatment, separate rooms and free drinks, but sometimes the people who want to pay for an honest drink want to go and hustle pool or play trivia like normal people.

Darcy’s frequently reminded that her life is no longer normal and she’s going to hang on to whatever she can of it. If that means flirting with a bad news bear at the bar, pretending to suck at pool and holding the cue in her hands, the polished wood setting off her short red nails, so she can get the feeling of someone leaning in close to her, so be it. Fuck it. Life is short.

It shouldn’t have to mean Clint’s gaze sending shivers down her spine. It’s not fair. Fuck him.

"Honey, you are holding that all wrong, "Bad News but here Bear says, even though she’s totally got great form, and Darcy can roll with that and he leans up close to her, adjusting her grip and copping a feel. Actually, a rather classy one that doesn’t linger. She may have to change her assessment from Bad News to Mediocre News.

The air changes, and the hairs on her neck perk up and she looks up in time to see Clint making his way over.

"Excuse me," she says stepping out of the guys vicinity, "I need to save you from getting your ass kicked." It feels only a little silly saying that and actually pretty badass when she listens to him stutter.

"That guy-" Clint starts but takes one look at Darcy’s face and apparently finds the little bit of good sense on loan from someone else and shuts up.

"You don’t get a say and if I needed help, I’d ask Natasha," Darcy says to shut him down, "You’ve had your say already and I’m pretty sure it was no."

"What if I said that I’ve spent the last half hour watching you and listening to Natasha berate me in three languages and possible some sort of foreign sign language about what an idiot I am."

"You haven’t said anything about what you think yet," Darcy points out, and Clint groans.

"I was stupid and made a bad choice and I’d like to go back and say yes to when you asked me out." Clint can barely look at her, barely look at anything. Big brave superhero. Feelings are his weakness.

But Darcy smiles and says okay, doesn’t even try to sass him about it, but walks back to the table with him to enjoy the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anonymous asked: taserhawk prompt Clint rescues darcy from a man with ill intentions  
> You can send me prompts at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	138. bucky/darcy/steve, papers

"She’s drooling," Bucky announces quietly when Steve walks into the living room. Darcy’s slumped over her laptop, her head pressing into the keys.

"Did she finish at least?" Steve asks, bemused and sitting down with a sketchpad in the relative quiet of the room, "Because I’m not responsible for any more coffee pots exploding at 3 in the morning because she’s stole Stark’s from his lab. Picking glass out of the ceiling is a one-time endeavor."

'The naked dance party at 4 was a much better time for all involved.” Bucky moves a bit of hair off of Darcy's face and slowly disengages her face from the h and j keys. “Yeah, looks done. Before she feel asleep she wrote, 'Suck it, haters' that's code, right?”

"Darcy code, she’s done. "

In a swift move, Bucky picks Darcy up from the chair, wraps her up in his arms and carries her back into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> janetsvandyne finished her papers and as a reward, she asked for a little bit of ot3 fluff. AND HERE IT IS, BETHS.


	139. Clint/Darcy, picture

The early morning light streams in though the heavy glass, diffusing into a gauzy halo over Clint’s sleep-drenched skin. He’d fallen asleep on top of the blankets, face first and hand curled against Darcy during the night. His hair sticks up everywhere, messy and blonder than she had thought. Clint’s curled into a long expanse of spine, and even his scars, and there are so many, are beautiful. She wonders what could have caused the twin knots on his shoulders, the scars old and puckered, like they hadn’t been seen to professionally.

She’s been accused of being a sentimentalist, obsessively documenting her life, even if it’s just for herself. But if she hadn’t, who would believe what her life turned into? She reaches for her phone, and fiddles with the settings before taking a picture.

The noise wakes Clint up. He snorts in a harsh intake of air, and looks around for his bearings while his body seemingly expands to look dangerous. Darcy holds up her hands, not really scared of him, but of the intensity that he has less than a second after waking. He immediately deflates, takes in the fact that they both fell asleep naked for the first time together and asks quietly, “Did you take a picture of me?”

Darcy sits up and reaches for him where the light touches his face, “The light was really good.” She ducks her head slightly, “I just wanted to remember how you looked later.”

Clint looks confused, but a fond smile grows like sudden shyness on his face, “Just? For awhile, just gotta remember I’ll be a bit jumpy.” Darcy finds that his hands are on her hips and she’s sliding into his lap, skin against skin, and the light shines on both of them when their lips meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rolodexthoughts asked: Darcy/Clint Trying to take a picture


	140. bucky/darcy, please call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jadecharmer asked: Darcy/Steve or Darcy/Bucky, with prompt: "Hey. I'm just sitting here, watching all this stuff going on with you on tv and I just wanted to let you know.... I'm here. For you. Day or night. So please call."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is from a thing right? I think I saw a gif set. I am woefully behind on all sorts of pop culture
> 
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)

It’s always fucking Darcy’s turn to call. She knows Bucky knows how to use a phone (he’s an unthawed soviet spy and assassin, not an idiot), but somehow it’s always on her to actually call and catch up when they are on opposite sides of the planet.

Maybe Bucky just forgets how to use a cellphone as a method of communication. It might not just be high on his internal mental landscape. But still it’s been a week. He’s not on a secret op or anything. He can use a phone.

She settles into the one oversized chair she has in her crackerjack apartment, turns on the television and, okay boyfriend has good reason not to call. Trouble follows that man around like a ghost. Normally, you don’t see Bucky when they are showing shaky cell phone footage but this time, trouble found him all up close and personal. And painfully.

Darcy looks down at her phone. This is why it’s never worth getting too worked up over shit, something always comes and knocks down her expectations of what a relationship is going to be like. She’s going to come second to necessary violence.

She gets his voicemail, “Hey it’s me. You’re a movie star again. When you need to talk it out, I’ll always take your call.”


	141. Clint/Darcy, Kate, darcy and kate brotp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> janetsvandyne said: whispers darcykate or darcykate brotp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my beths. And this came to me fully formed, JUST FOR YOU.
> 
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)

"I am getting the two of you a jar." Darcy announces, walking through the door of Clint’s apartment and dropping her bag on the counter, "It is going to be a bad ideas jar."

"I think that jar just needs to be for Barton." Kate smirks, "I am a paragon."

"It is a Hawkeye Bad Idea Jar, and overtime one of you thinks you have a great idea, you are going to put a dollar in it." Darcy continues, "Don’t you say a word youngling, you are not immune to the Hawkeye curse."

"There is an awful lot of disparaging of my good name here," Clint pipes up from the stairs, and both Darcy and Kate stifle a laugh. Clint stops halfway down, "I will go back upstairs and not come out until one of you are gone."

"But Clint," Darcy drawls in a deadpan seductive voice, "Then you’ll miss when Kate and I finally deal with this intense attraction between us."

"We just can’t help it, Clint, she may be your girl, but I think it’s a Hawkeye thing," Kate adds. "It’s the big blue eyes."

Clint continues down the stairs, “Yeah, that would be a dollar in the jar, kid. That would be many many dollars in the jar.”

"I am not the bringer of bad ideas." Kate objects.

"By the way, there’s a purple vespa getting moved downstairs," Darcy says, "It was double-parked."

Kate scowls and huffs, opening her wallet and slamming a five down on the counter, “That should cover me for awhile.” She walks out the door before breaking into a run down the stairs that ends with a crash. Darcy quietly takes down a coffee cup, accepts a kiss from Clint, and puts the five in there for now.

Twenty minutes later, Kate comes back up, gingerly favoring her right leg, and hands out another five, “I accept that I might have a problem as well.”


	142. Darcy & Tony, tony's daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> discord-fluttershy asked:
> 
> Well I have no clue if this is where the whole prompt thing on AO3 goes but I would love to see more of the Bruce/Darcy one called The girl with a past but more on the Avengers side of it after she is gone. And with Darcy as Tony's kid those are always fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I don’t really have much for the darcy/bruce thing, but man, do I love Darcy as Tony’s kid.
> 
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)

Tony’s not exactly known for his tact in any given situation, but when he hears that Foster’s even younger assistant (and Foster is a baby. She’s a living, breathing, science infant, and Tony is going to nurture that shit and she’s going to do all the theoretical, non-practical, beautiful science that he’s never been able to do) is a stealth knockout, he’s all for inviting them over for a glorified and nerdy playdate. Tony is an appreciator of fine things, look at Pepper, he appreciates her like the sun. But he’s never going to stop looking, even if he’s stopped touching.

Mostly. He can touch with permission. It’s a rare and beautiful gift.

Jane joins him and Bruce with gusto, she’s not tenured, and there’s cuts at Culver. Something about people thinking it’s not a safe campus, and with her funding running low (even with obvious proof about aliens, once you get a whiff of crazy about you, you start getting shunted to History Channel specials) she’s fine to take an unpaid sabbatical with Tony Stark. It’s such a success, that Tony is thinking about taking in other wayward scientists as well. He hears Pym needs a job, shit he could steal that blond biologist that SHIELD keeps trotting out whenever there’s a mission that involves intelligence of both the hitting people and advanced degree kinds. He could totally steal her away.

The assistant arrives a few days later, and his intel was correct, she is a knockout. She’s also a dead ringer for one of the multitudes from his past, which puts a lump in his throat. And then there’s the eyerolling and the talking and his accidentally getting dna from her via a hairbrush, because some things are just too much of coincidences not to be a causation. And oh shit, he’s going have to order himself some it’s a girl cigars or something, even if it’s like, twenty three years late.

He’s got to tell Darcy. Or her mother. Well, her mother already knows, he’s pretty positive that’s how these things work, but he’s got to work out if there’s any explaining he has to do. And he has to tell Pepper, and the lawyers. Oh good lord, he has to deal with the lawyers.


	143. Clint/Darcy, when I was your man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> justjill asked:
> 
> I gave someone a prompt awhile back and for whatever reason she hasn't been able to write so maybe you can help ease my pain? Darcy/Clint, fighting and maybe broken up, so Darcy is at GNO with the girls at a club where Clint surprises her, takes over the stage and piano and sings "when I was your man" by Bruno Mars. He's VERY apologetic that he doesn't always know how to feelings

"Are you kidding me?"

Aww, futz. That was not the reaction Clint was going for. No, this was supposed to be the big romantic gesture that makes things better. Or maybe that isn’t how it works, no wait, it works because it was supposed to get her attention so that you can apologize. Or something. Clint’s not exactly what you call competent at these things called emotions.

Darcy looks astoundingly wide-eyed and pretty with her eyebrows all bugged out like that. He’ll remember that, because like most of his life, this is probably going to end poorly.

"Uh — no. Not kidding." He stutters out, trying not to be so defensive about it.

"You walked into the bar, took over the piano and sang about being an idiot." Darcy’s head bobs on the beat of her words and the thud of her finger against his chest.

"Yeah, I did that." It does sound stupid now, doesn’t it? He really needs to not take relationship advice from whatever crap he’s recently watched on TV. Or from Kate. Kate was probably just pulling his leg with that ‘oh sure hawkeye, girls love that sort of thing’ shit.

"Where did you learn to play and sing like that?" and that’s a full on slap at his chest. It doesn’t sting at all, because, well, Darcy. She really needs to learn how to hit someone effectively, "Seriously, are you kidding me. Why were you hiding that all this time?"

Okay, not what he was expecting at all. “Aren’t you angry at me?”

"Yeah," Darcy shrugs, but launches her arms around his neck, "But we’re going out, we’re allowed to be angry at each other. It’s not the end of everything. I thought we were just cooling off."

"I totally misread that."

"Next time, just ask me. I’m great at relationships." Darcy says seriously before she kisses his cheek, "So, there’s this bar that does karaoke on Tuesdays…."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	144. Darcy/Steve, model planes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Steve/Darcy AU where Steve is a huge dork for WWII model kits and Darcy works at the hobby shop he frequents.

"No, he thinks he’s a serious collector, but mostly he’s got the Thomas Kincaid Lionel set and waits for a new Hawthorne Village piece every month," The pretty girl at the counter chats into what even Steve recognizes is an ancient hard lined phone, "But, he’s good for business…no, bring it in! I’ll check the condition, I might even give you greenberg for that!

Steve doesn’t have to force a smile. He hasn’t thought of Lionel trains in such a long time, but one of the kids in the apartment had one of the Mickey and Minnie handcars. They had the shortest track imaginable but they hadn’t needed much. He can still hear the damn bell.

"Come in tomorrow, I got a live one here," The girl eyes him up and down, her nametag says Darcy, and she wears her hair down like Veronica Lake. She hangs up the phone and Steve sets down his boxes.

"Hey, you got the good kits," her smile is bright, and she taps the box, "I’ve been hoping someone can get this one right, cause you gotta do all the paint yourself… sorry, rambling."

"No, it’s okay. " It’s sweet to see someone get into anything. So many people seem to relish the ironic and not take any joy in the authentic, that Steve feels this urge to encourage it, "You ever see this one in person?"

It’s a common enough picture in the history books, he’s told. One of Howard’s designs, a plane he was familiar with intimately. Especially the part you jump out of.

"No," she says with real regret, "And I more like the trains anyways." she runs his card and remembers to check his ID (Stark claims that writing SEE ID does nothing, but he likes the extra thought) and hands him a slip to sign, "Thanks Steve," she grabs one of the business cards and scribbles on the back before handing it and his receipt to him, "Take a picture when you’re done, okay?"

Later, when he clean out his coat pocket from the day into the junk jar by the door, the card flutters out. Darcy has crisp writing that says, “or you can just call me,” alongside her number.

Steve picks up and keeps the card in his wallet. He might have the guts to do it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a chance to use my expert knowledge of model trains.  
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	145. Darcy, "selfcest" b-team crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> could I prompt some Darcy/Darcy selfcest? is that something you might write? maybe Darcy uncovers an artifact or encounters some magic that duplicates her, and she realizes that she gets along really well ;) with her clone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t bring myself to selfcest, but indulge me here, can I write an au of an au verse? OF COURSE I CAN. B-team meets yet another universe.
> 
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)

Darcy swears she can hear her own voice down the hall. She’s heard it recorded before, she knows her sweet and dulcet tones anywhere and this is creeping her out.

"Why are you dragging me into this insanity?" She continues to shove Barton down the hallway with her.

"Because if you just started hearing yourself from the lab, you’d be freaked out too!"

Clint starts walking under his own volition, but rolls his eyes at Darcy. Okay, so she didn’t answer his question really, shut up. He was the first person to come to mind who was actually nearby. He slows to an purposeful amble, leading with his ear, “You might not be crazy, Lewis. Who is supposed to be in that lab right now?”

"No one! I checked the schedule, nothing, and no one has badged into it either."

"Aren’t those records private?"

Darcy doesn’t even dignify that with a response. She thinks Stark wants her to hack into most of the records here. He thinks she’s a project, which at least means she’s as well liked as his lesser bots.

Clint punches in an override code on the key and there is a moment where the only thing that Darcy hears is the sound of guns being drawn and she ducks behind Clint and looks out at who is aiming back at them.

Darcy really only hears a whooshing in her ears as she tries to comprehend that she’s seeing herself, albeit with way more muscle. And Jane, if Jane, looking the way she does after three days of super intense no-sleep science. Except with a gun, and hell, that scares Darcy to pieces.

"Well, at least we know one universe we didn’t land in." Other-Darcy says looking at Barton and hell, she looks like she actually knows how to use that gun. And she wishes like hell she could wear just a tank top like that. "The strays would have throttled us if we couldn’t get them back."

"Okay," Barton stretches out the first syllable in a lazy, wary voice, "Do we all need to pointing at each other?"

"No," Ninja Action Jane nods at Seriously-Are-Those-Visible-Abs Darcy, and they lower weapons in sync with each other, "We don’t. Not yet anyways." She turns to the other Darcy, "I wonder if this is how the strays felt."

"This is weirder."

"This is very weird," Darcy agrees with herself, and pulls out her phone, "I’m assembling the science squad."

Jane starts looking around, “I think that might be a beacon right there, and hey, do you guys have Thor in residence? Cause I’ve got a few things to ask him.” She picks up something that had been laying at her feet, slinging it easily over her shoulder.

It’s fucking Mjolnir. The other Darcy starts laughing, and between racks of laughter, as Stark and Banner get there first, and they react to the sight of Jane holding the Hammer as she eyeballs a strange piece of tech, she barely makes out the words, “Oh my god your face. Jane, this is the best day ever.”


	146. Clint/Darcy, stupid idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Clint is trying to hold it together but he keeps thinking this was a stupid idea and he should leave now. He gets up to leave when he sees Darcy, she looks beautiful but what keeps him from leaving is the smile on her face when she sees him.

This is stupid. Like, this is really stupid and Clint is going to crash and burn at this just like he has every other relationship he’s attempted over the years. What does it say when your most successful relationship wasn’t even the one where you got married, but rather settled as work partners? Clint Barton isn’t made romance, he’s made for call you next weeks, and maybe he’s the one that makes the walk of shame more often than he should.

So, yeah, this is stupid. This is stupid because it’s been a year since the marriage officially ended with Bobbi, even though that relationship was long over. He doesn’t know how to do this, either he rushes head over heels or lets his dick do the talking.

But there’s Darcy. Who is too young, and too bright, and woefully unprepared for the life she’s found herself in. And she makes it anyways, sometimes by the barest of margins, and Clint’s been charmed by her for weeks. Weeks since they fell in with each other, decided not to tell anyone, because privacy is the rarest of gifts.

All he wants is to give to Darcy.

Which is why this is stupid. Clint’s not cut out for this. He’s going to screw this up.

Tonight’s family dinner. Which is the biggest lie of the Avengers, because none of them know how to be a family. Which is a heartbreak for another day, but Darcy wants to make this work and Clint’s bursting at the seams trying to support it without being obvious. He convinced Natasha to come, told Pepper to put it on Tony’s schedule, made two grocery store runs at the last minute.

It’s as close to saying something that he can manage. He’s not good with words.

Darcy turns her head at something Jane says, and Clint realizes he’s been staring. Her smile lights everything up, the kitchen floods with the glow from her, his heart sinks to his stomach. He doesn’t want to screw this up, but if he keeps her a secret much longer he will.

He’s in the kitchen before he realizes it. With Jane there, and Thor hovering at the edges, in full view of everyone else.

"Hey," Darcy says, "Thanks for heading to the store or wherever I really needed—"

"Stop me if you don’t want this," He says gracelessly, pulling her into his arms, and he’s pretty sure her hands are full of flour and that’s getting all over his shirt, but he doesn’t care. The press of her body is wonderful on his and she makes the connection and kisses him.

Let them catcall. He’s going to enjoy this for as long as he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	147. darcy/Steve, discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> darcy/steve where darcy gets really hirt (sic) in the field and discovers she is pregnant
> 
> Warning for Miscarriage

Darcy’s not really lucid when the test results come back. Well, both test results, really. It’s Jane next to her when she gets the news, and Darcy doesn’t quite understand what the doctor is telling her. Darcy blinks a couple of times, “Okay.” and goes back to sleep.

Jane is still there when she wakes up again, holding her hand, and holding back a pair of tall blonde men with the other.

"What did the doctor say earlier, I don’t remember anything after he told me about major internal bleeding," Darcy asks with a dry throat.

Jane hands her the glass of water and lets her drink before answering, “Darcy, sweetie, you were pregnant.” There’s movement from the other side of the room, a rapid drop into a chair, “With all the trauma and the stress, it didn’t make after surgery.”

"Oh," Darcy isn’t sure what she’s supposed to say here or really how she’s supposed to feel, and if she looks over at Steve, she’s just going to see devastation and guilt in his defeated posture. Jane holds her hand tighter, and Darcy closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see Steve like that for at least another moment.


	148. Clint, Kate, Lucky,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> missusdoublea asked: Prompt: Clint brings home a dog who does what wash did, Kate has to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little explanation. My dog, Wash, is a jerk who likes to get in the trash because of separation anxiety. Adorable dog, but a jerk. Anyone who can explain how my dog turns on the gas range without opposable thumbs is my hero.
> 
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)

Kate blinks when she opens the door ahead of Clint, and why does it not surprise her that the door is unlocked. It’s Clint after all, he’d forget his own head if it weren’t so stubborn about being on his neck.

"Didn’t we just clean your place?" she asks, and really, she means didn’t SHE just clean his place. Homeboy needs a maid, except he’s never going to go for that because it would ruin his mental self-image of himself. Also, where do you find a maid with that high of a clearance.

"I left it clean, what was it —" Clint stops short, except he doesn’t realize the mess all around until he’s well inside, "It doesn’t look ransacked, it just looks…."

"Trash. Trashed, it’s all actually just trash." Kate follows a long stream of plastic trays, take-out containers, and bandages into the bathroom, "I think I see the problem here. I think you might have been gone a little longer than you remember."

"Aw, Lucky," Clint drawls, "I feed you, I swear. You don’t have to try to eat all the garbage." Clint sits down next his dog, and Lucky shoves his paws into Clint’s lap, and stretches up to lick his face.

"I’ll start googling toys for bored and hungry dogs," Kate says and leaves Clint to assure Lucky that he’s here, not going anywhere, and will continue to feed him horrible things.


	149. Bucky/Darcy/Steve, meet the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rainnecassidy asked:
> 
> heylo. i've been reading your Friday night prompts and I'd like to play. :) I'd love to see Steve/Darcy/Bucky having a holiday (any holiday) with Darcy's family. Please and thank you kindly. Also hello because I am new to the fandom and the ship. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t quite get to the “Darcy’s family” part, but I go near close. Welcome to the fandom and the ship!
> 
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)

"I’m trying to wrap my head around this," Steve gets the most adorable expression on his face when he bewildered. It’s this combination of puppy and something like a very intelligent but cranky goat, Darcy thinks. Smart, but just out of reach. "Your parents have no issues with you bringing two men along with you to the family beachhouse for the family vacation."

"Right," Darcy agrees, pulling out a swimsuit from her dresser. Do Steve and Bucky even have swimsuits? She can’t wait for that reveal. Her cousins are going to freak.

"Even though they’ve never met said men?"

"The family portion of family vacation has always had a loose meaning." Darcy pulls open another drawer, bras, panties, no socks, you don’t go to the beach to wear socks. "It’s more along the lines of a party everyone is invited to. I’ve always brought friends. This isn’t that much different."

"What hair for brains is trying to ask sweetheart, is if your family knows that we are a we thing."

Darcy stops folding her clothes for a moment, and her jaw drops as she sorts through the conversations she’s had with her folks ever since this thing with the ice cube boys started and, oh shit, “No. No I don’t think they do know.”

"I guess we can try and act as though we are all just friends, or would they be the offended type about Buck and I—what, I don’t…" Steve stops at Darcy’s laughter, as she drops her head into her hands to muffle her mirth.

"Oh, babe, I was just thinking," Darcy says through her fit of giggles, " I was just thinking that my cousin Sera is going to be just livid with jealousy when I tell her that I am the luckiest girl of the decade. My family is going to be just fine with all three of us. In fact they’ll probably be relieved it’s only three of us," Steve and Bucky don’t look convinced. She should expect that from them by now, they are never impressed with her plans. "One of my aunt and uncles hosts key parties and tell us about them. Loudly."

"Key parties?" Oh dear, she’s lost them again, because now Bucky is looking a little cranky goatish.

"I am so happy to be the one to explain swinging to you, let me further corrupt such delicate young minds." Darcy says, pulling her boys roughly together in a quick, impish hug.


	150. Bucky/Darcy, speaking russian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> glittermybones asked:
> 
> Can I prompt something? If I can, Darcy/Bucky and the prompt is "Buck finds out that Darcy speaks Russian"

Bucky looks up when he hears Russian. It’s a response that he hasn’t trained out of himself now that he is free to be you and me, and in the United States, because it’s like a second mother tongue. A step-mother tongue. And he looks up because it’s a woman speaking, but it’s not accented, it’s not Nat’s natural voice.

He looks up and it’s the little lab assistant arguing with an older woman who exudes being from the old country, who interprets a few of the slavic languages for SHIELD. He follows the conversation with half a smile, they are arguing about some television show they both follow. It’s heated, and the interpreter throws some choice words at Darcy, that she returns good-naturedly before the older woman storms off.

Bucky doesn’t realize he’s staring at her until she’s staring back at him, her face animated and raising her eyebrows at him, “What?” she says, raising her hands.

"You speak Russian, well enough that you made Petrova huff out. She’s the very definition of sweetness and motherhood." He points out, "You."

Darcy scowls, “Yes, I speak Russian. Also Urdu and working on a couple of Arabic dialects. I’m a lab monkey, not an idiot like everyone makes me out to be.”

Her face falls and Bucky feels like an utter shit, because he’s used to just seeing Darcy as Foster’s shadow, setting up her appointments and making sure she eats. He forgets that she’s pursuing her own advanced studies and sharper than a tack about things.

"Don’t think you’re an idiot." he says in apologies.

"I know what people think of me, Barnes, I know what people think of any woman that looks like me or talks like me, acts like me. I just hadn’t realized you didn’t see through that — most of the spy-types have by now."

Bucky directs her to a seat next to him where he’s been waiting, “To be fair, I haven’t been kicking around SHIELD near as long as the rest of them.”

At least she laughs, a clear, pretty sound and she sits next to him, and maybe he can start to make amends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)


	151. Clint/Darcy, protective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> taserhawk prompt Clint is protective when things are dangerous and Darcy secretly loves it...
> 
> You can prompt me anytime at [ my tumblr](http://twistedingenue.tumblr.com)

"Well," Darcy says when she comes up for air, "This is a habit I never thought I’d develop."

"You kissed me?" Clint looks puzzled, but his hand is still in her hair, combing through a tangle, "Yeah, pretty sure that you started that one." But now that his hands are on her, after returning that hell of a kiss, they don’t sit still.

Darcy isn’t sure if he’s mapping her out, or checking her for injury from when he bowled her over and covered her body with his. When the smoke cleared, when the guns stopped, he had helped her to sitting, and she had crushed her lips against his. He’d been surprised, but that didn’t stop an automatic response, his arms pressed against her back and his hand cradling her head. The spoils to the victor, she supposes.

Wait, does that make her a prize? Oh fuck that.

"I apparently have this kink about making out with guys right after they save me from being dead," Darcy mutters, putting her head in her hands, "You don’t have to take it seriously."

"So to get kissed like that, I have to put you danger?" Clint shakes his head, "I don’t think I can do that."

At least this will be quicker than trying to date Ian. That was a a disaster and a half. He’d turned out so boring, she had to pull any sort of adventure out of him. Darcy doesn’t know where this need for excitement and novelty has come from in her life (okay that’s a lie. That started in New Mexico. Why else would she still be following Jane around? It’s not like she’s getting paid, not really) but she didn’t have that with Ian.

"Because I really get freaked out when things go wrong around you," Clint breaks through her line of thinking, "And crashing to ground like this would be hell on my knees, and I’d like to kiss you without being out of a job."

Darcy kisses him again.


	152. darcy & steve, deaging

"I look like this?" Steve says, looking in the mirror, rubbing his hands over his face "How do I look like this?"

It’s going to be okay. Everyone else has had to go through this strange fucked up mess of mental age regression and they’ve all come right back to where they need to be in a few minutes. Something about Steve’s physiology is doing something strange and for once, it’s taking longer to process.

Until it passes, Steve’s fourteen inside, and enthralled by the reflection in the mirror.

"Lady, I don’t think you understand," he talks a little higher than normal, but his accent is thick as mud, "This ain’t anything I’ve ever seen before. On anyone. How’d this happen, ya know?"

"Good clean living, kid," she responds, "Eat your vitamins and become a science experiment."

"I wish Bucky were here, he’d love to see this." Steve flexes his bicep and touches and Darcy is not going to think too hard about how inappropriate this is making her feel. "He’d be jealous, he’s always been the charmer, gets all the lookers. Is he here? Can I see him?" Steve continues with childish enthusiasm.

Darcy’s face must tell him all he needs to know, because he drops his head and looks down, “I guess it was a little much to be hopeful for, that we’d both be alive now.”

Hopefully this won’t last long, because this Steve wears his emotions close to the surface, and the devastation in the line of his jaw utterly wrecks Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shatteredshards Prompted: Darcy/Steve. Steve gets hit with something (your choice) that turns him back into a kid mentally. It's only temporary, but Darcy's stuck watching him until it wears off.
> 
> I hope you weren’t expecting something happy.
> 
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	153. bucky/darcy/steve,  not an accident

If Darcy has to pull them together by their dogtags, she will. She can see the how Steve dances around Bucky, something different than just close friendship in their bond to each other now. She’s be lying to herself if it didn’t make her just a little sad, because she can see it, you know? Darcy might be on the way out of Steve’s bed, but if it were Bucky replacing her, she can understand that.

They’ve both been created and used. It’s something that she will never understand.

Last night, Steve’s arm and been across her shoulders on the couch, but his reach is long, and his hand capped on Bucky’s. He’d been sitting so close to Darcy that their thighs had touched, as if Bucky was trying to reach through her to Steve.

She’d left them alone in her apartment today to get shopping done. And now she’s standing outside of her own door, not turning the handle, because she’s not ready for the heartbreak. Her phone still has the text from Steve, come home soon, we should talk about Bucky displayed on the screen.

She’s a big girl, she can handle a breakup. It’s for a good reason, after all.

Darcy expected fanfare, men making out in her living room, something other than the mundane sight of Steve and Bucky watching tv on the couch. But this time, it’s Bucky who is reaching out, his hand idling at the nape of Steve’s neck, playing with fine hairs there.

"Hey," she says, shifting her groceries to the counter, and the boys don’t move apart. Steve turns to her, his brightest smile, the one that will endear her forever to him. It’s a private smile, filled with wonder, the same one he had the first time he laid his hands on her naked body.

"Darcy," Steve says with Bucky’s hand still on him, "We need —"

"You want to do this with Bucky here?" Darcy asks, a little tired. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Something small and private, just the two of them and maybe a final kiss. Noble.

"He’s part of it," Steve says, "Cause we were talking and…" he looks back at Bucky.

Bucky shrugs, “Don’t be a chicken shit now, tell her.”

"Do I have to give you up?" Steve finishes, "If I want you both, can we try that?"

Darcy raises her eyebrows, because this was not a possibility she entertained. The groceries can wait, and when she gets to the couch, Bucky moves over so she can sit between them.

"Let’s talk," she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meri prompted: Steve/Darcy/Bucky: Darcy walks in on the boys. It isn't even remotely an accident.  
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	154. clint/darcy, Arrow (tv)

"For god’s sake, Clint, come down from there, you are going to kill yourself." Darcy calls up to Clint and crossing her arms under her chest.

"No way, if that pampered fuck on that show can do this, so can I!" Clint hangs from a metal bar, caught on rungs sticking out of two beams. He pulls himself up and starts building momentum.

"He is a fictional character! It’s a TV show," Darcy cannot contain her eyeroll. Into the back of her head, she swears because this started at first when she stopped her channel surfing long enough for Clint to see archery on television, so of course he made her watched.

She’s pretty sure that they were entranced for different reasons. Clint just grunts and swings out and catches the iron bar on a higher rung. It is rather impressive, she has to admit. Darcy’s not above ogling.

What gets her is that this is all stuff that Clint knows how to do, just in a different form than he’s used to. This isn’t all that hard.

"Is this because the actor said that he had better form than Hawkeye in an interview?" she asks, right as Clint swings again. He misses the rung this time, and falls onto the mats.

So that answers that question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Fic prompt: Clint/Darcy watching Arrow--either Clint is really into the show, or he won't shut up about how wrong everything is.
> 
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	155. bucky/darcy/steve, antiques

Darcy and two antiques walk into a man. No wait, she has that backwards. Darcy and two men walk into an antique store. Because this is her life now, she escorts grown ass men from the 40’s into antique stores, because someone has to actually restrain them from buying all the crap that they never had growing up.

Sheet music. Dishes. Knick-knacks. If it were solid furniture, that would be one thing, Darcy could work with that, help them decorate their rooms in the Tower. But no, it’s these little things. The depression glass is nice, but Steve thinks the gaudier the better and if they aren’t careful, American Pickers is going to have a superhero special episode.

She gets separated from her boys in the shop, as she looks over a triptych set of wall mirrors that would be awesome in the small kitchen their apartment has. Of course, small is a relative term. Compared to the communal floor it’s small, but compared to any other place she’s lived, it’s huge. The three of them have been puttering around together for some time now and it’s good. It’s really good. It’s never been anything she’s expected.

For once, she’s never expected being dragged out for three weekends straight to what seems like every antique store in Brooklyn, but that’s the sort of thing she does for her men. There’s usually ice cream after. Darcy loves them.

Bucky finds her, kisses her cheek and amazingly says they are done here. It’s a good day for walking, so they walk for a bit, bumping shoulders before finding their way back home to Midtown. They have a strange arrangement, not entirely for the world to see or really get, but it works for them.

Steve takes her hand later as she sits between them. Her legs over Bucky’s, leaning into Steve’s shoulder. Darcy feels a weight drop and he closes her palm around it, and says, “We want you to have this.”

She opens up her palm, and well, her mouth doesn’t quite work right. She can’t get words out, not really the words she wants. “This is an engagement ring,” she says, finally, far too slow.

"It kind of is," Bucky answers, "If you want it."

She picks the ring up between her fingers. It’s old. It’s not something that could have been picked up at any old jeweler, not even in the city. The antique stores. Steve and Bucky had been fine with her giving away or saying no to most of the pieces they had bought.

Sneaky.

Darcy’s not a connoisseur or anything, never given much thought to rings or weddings, or really this level of commitment. But oh, this sparkles. The diamond’s just off enough in color to be special, the sapphires flanking it the color of Steve’s uniform. It’s pretty and understated, not the monstrosities that the women she graduated with have been showing off on Facebook.

Oh shit. Now she’s going to have to be that person on Facebook.

Darcy puts on the ring, settles back into her boys, and starts asking questions about how this is going to work publicly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The ring](http://www.langantiques.com/products/item/10-1-5625)
> 
> jadziabear prompted: Darcy/Bucky/Steve antiques
> 
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	156. clint/darcy, tigerbalm

"How long have you been watching?" Clint asks after he realizes he’s not alone in the range. Foster’s kid, the pretty assistant with the glasses and the curves that defy all attempts at hiding, Darcy, peeks out from behind a partition. They’ve only just convinced that team to come join them at the tower, that they would be safer there than in London or even the tiny towns they work out of in the states.

They’ve mostly been sticking around the labs. Not because they are shy. One look at them and you can tell none of them are shy. But because Stark has lots of shiny toys that have kept them distracted. Still, they’ve been here and there, mostly at breakfast. Darcy has a tendency to for strong coffee and lots of it, and that’s something near and dear to Clint.

"Long enough to be seriously impressed," Darcy answers, and her eyes follow Clint’s body up and down before her eyebrows quirk up high with just a little bit of mocking tease to them. Clint can’t help but respond. It’s a flaw of his, pretty women will always be his undoing, "You were looking a little tired towards the end though." she finishes.

He had overdone it, actually, a few draws too many. But when you get into a flow, you want to see it through. Better to wake up sore than to stop that clarity of mind.

"Maybe a little. Shoulder could use a little work," he shrugs and gives her a dopey smile, waits to see how she reacts.

"I could uh, help with that, if you’d like," and if there’s something better than just a pretty woman, it’s a woman that’s downright forward. No games, no guessing. "I’m not bad with tiger balm and I give a pretty mean massage." 

And even if it only ends there, Clint is going to consider it a very good night. He really hopes it doesn’t just end there, and by the way that Darcy is exaggerating her steps, swinging her hips just a step ahead of him, he really doesn’t think it’s going to end with just her hands on his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kitkatcabbit prompted: fic prompt! Darcy/Clint, or Darcy/Steve, fun with Tiger Balm
> 
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	157. Darcy & Jane, crazy dog lady

"I couldn’t find homes for all the dogs, Jane." Darcy has huge wide eyes and is holding a puppy. Seriously, a puppy. Something just leveled the town, Thor hasn’t come back, and Darcy is holding a puppy, and there’s two more older dogs leaning against her. "We should take care of them."

Jane starts to say there isn’t room, but well, the dealership does have a lot of room. It’s also still standing.

One of the dogs ears twitches and both Darcy and Jane coo over it. Jane hasn’t seen Darcy like this ever. Darcy’s always given off an air of being a little too self-interested and overly pleased with how clever she is. Which really is part of being an undergraduate, but still, Jane didn’t lie when she said sometimes she needs to just get away from Darcy.

"Can I keep them here?" Darcy says, a little quieter and warmer, without a hint of any of her normal bluster. "Just until I can find places for them."

Jane agrees.

Apparently, there were more than just the three dogs, and Jane would really like to take back all the nice things she said about Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Well you how there is the 'crazy cat lady' can you make Darcy a crazy dog lady? Doesn't matter who she is with either
> 
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	158. darcy & jane, easter

"Easter’s not a big deal for you is it?" Jane asks. Which is a silly question, considering they are working out of Jane’s mother’s flat, and it’s Easter and no one is with Jane’s mother right now. Also, Jane has missed a few very important context clues, including that Darcy went to Seder last week.

"Jane, we now personally know two men who have come back from the dead after significantly longer time periods than three days," she’ll forgive Jane for her forgetfulness, but this is sarcasm, there’s no need to make excuses for sarcasm, "So yeah, not too big of deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andcsy prompted: could you do a short story for Friday night prompts about Darcy and how she made Easter special for the Avengers.. with Avenger-themed chocolate/normal eggs? Or anything with Darcy x Bucky... thanks so much! :)
> 
> okay, so I didn’t really make it about Darcy and making Easter special, just hilarious.
> 
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	159. darcy/steve, just friends

“Jealousy is not your color,” Darcy bites off her words with clipped tones, “You should leave the green to Bruce.”

“It’s just that you spend so much time with Barton, what was I supposed to think?” Steve asks, turning away from Darcy in the cramped closet that he had shoved Darcy into during a fight and somehow also got stuck in. He has no idea what this door is made out of it, but it is not budging one bit.

“That we both engage in stunningly bad life choices.” Darcy crosses her arms and grumbles.

“And I’m not jealous,” Steve adds, because what does he have to be jealous of. Darcy and him aren’t anything at all, friends only by proximity at this point.

“I don’t believe you,” she laughs a little too loud, “I’m not dating or sleeping with Clint and that’s what you were trying to get me to admit. ‘Oh Darcy, I’m sorry for touching you like that, that’s not right to do, especially to someone else’s girl. How’s Barton treating you.’ Yeah, you weren’t digging for information.”

Maybe if he just admits it, she will shut up, “Fine, I thought I was jealous. I don’t need to be, apparently.”

“Nope. And of all the people for you to think I’m having assignations with, Barton’s the wrong guy. He’s pretty obviously taken, and queer as the day is long.”

Several dozen things slide into place. “Oh,” Steve says, “Oh. So if I were to ask you out?”

“Ask me when we aren’t stuck in a closet.” Darcy says, but her hand is on his and maybe this will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Fic-prompt Steve/Darcy-Darcy is trying to explain to Steve that her and Clint are just friends
> 
> You can always find me/prompt me at  my tumblr


	160. clint/darcy, drawing on skin

Clint’s never been a forever and let the wedding bells ring sort of guy. Or a long term planner. He’s really more the impulse and headfirst kind, but there’s one impulse that’s been long checked by SHIELD contracts. No permanent identifying marks. Nothing that sets you apart from the rest of the world, nothing that their enemies can use against him.

Now that that’s all burned to the ground, he finds he wants a bit of permanence. And he’s still not the wedding bells kind of guy, but he actually likes this woman he’s with, and not just in the bedroom sort of way. If they live through the years ahead, Clint thinks he’d like to spend them with Darcy.

“What do you want me to do?” Darcy asks taking the sharpie from Clint. She turns it in her fingers warily.

“Draw something,” he says laughing a little at her devilish expression, “Not penises.”

“I’m not very good at arty things, but okay, lie down,” Darcy pulls off his shirt, her fingers lingering on his stomach.

Clint loses himself first in her hands as they just ghost over his bare skin, Darcy’s never been afraid to touch or show affection, and even just the tips of her fingers can convey that affection. It’s so honest and straightforward, things he’s never really had much of in his life, that his instinct is to run. But Darcy sits back on his ass and uncaps the marker and starts setting down ink to skin.

Darcy never, not once, lifts the marker away. Just swoops and swirls until it hits a rhythm and he falls asleep.

Clint wakes up with wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: *shuffles* Is it possible to ask for Darcy/(Steve, Bucky, Clint, pick your poison) and drawing on skin? *scampers* 
> 
> You can always find/prompt/follow me at my tumblr


	161. bucky/darcy, blush

Darcy makes stupid bets. She thought she could totally make Barnes blush. He might be a little hard about the head and heart, but she usually makes people blush unintentionally. Okay, some of that might be because her mouth tends to get her in trouble and other people are embarrassed for her, but still, making other people blush is a talent.

Barnes will have none of it. She’s tried being cringingly awkward, but Barnes doesn’t even notice. There was the bawdy joke session, which mostly just made him laugh. She did kinda forget that there is nothing new under the sun, and ended up trading dirty jokes until they ran Jane out of the room.

She’s only got a few more tricks up her sleeve. So she turns to being sweet. Darcy works out from Steve what candy he spent spare change on, and tracks down Walnettos and Chocolettos, fills a mason jar and ties a ribbon with his name on it. Bucky doesn’t blush, but tilts his head and smiles, unwrapping a piece and closing his eyes. He might not blush, but he does ask Darcy to take an afternoon off and watch movies with him and Steve.

Darcy’s only got one last chance to try to salvage this bet. Bucky’s got his feet up on the coffee table and over the course of the afternoon, Darcy has sort of leaned against him. And from this angle, she figures out her plan. It’s sudden and brief, her lips pressing into his cheek and settles into the crook of his now outstretched arm.

Bucky’s cheeks redden a little bit, but really, she flushes more and warmer when his arm comes to rest on her shoulder and keeps her against him. So okay, she may have lost the bet overall, but this outcome is way better than gloating to Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted: Bucky/Darcy prompt : Darcy bets Tony she can make the winter soldier blush 5 times 
> 
> You can always find/prompt/follow me at my tumblr


	162. darcy/steve, go the distance

Darcy really does need about two or three screens to do her work. She’s got about her laptop docked with 4 windows open on one monitor, her paper on a second, and a tablet propped up in the background, that provides nice ambient noise and a movie to distract her when she needs distracting. Someone at school once mocked her setup, but she smoked them in classes and wrecked the curve, so hey whatever works baby.

Grad school is working much the same way, honestly.

“Hey, that was a good song,” Steve says from the doorway, “What are you watching?”

“Uhhh…” Darcy doesn’t actually know. She queued up a bunch of movies this morning, and has had a really productive day. She looks over at her tablet, “Looks like Hercules.”

“Can you play it again? Maybe take a break and watch it with me?” Steve smiles, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen me in days,” Darcy’s been holed up trying to finish this paper, Steve was in and out for awhile. She’s not at a good stopping point at all, but she looks at the movie, at the tiny, awkward hero and hits save and turns off the monitor. Steve could probably stand to watch a movie that he can see himself in (and not actually have it be himself for once).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Would you write something Steve/Darcy (/Bucky?) where Steve cries watching Hercules? Like "go the distance" just gives him all the feels? 
> 
> You can always find/prompt/follow me at my tumblr


	163. clint/darcy, pregnant

Okay, this feels bad. Which is probably because it is, because Darce has been puking for days on end, and queasy when she’s not actively throwing up. And if he asks this question and she’s not, then he’s probably not going to have a girlfriend anymore. He knows that much about this sort of questions.

But he’s running up against an old instinct, leftover from the men he learned from as a kid; pack up and get gone when the going gets troubled. That instinct has mostly been replaced by a cocky disregard for his own personal safety and distrust of the laws of physics, and he tends to run headfirst into trouble now.

“Naw, son, you hear,” and he can hear the voices of a dozen men as they set up and take down the tents, “This is a permanent sort of trouble and you don’t want that.”

But he has wanted that before. There was Bobbi, and then there was a few months of tantalizingly something more and then there was nothing there, either in her belly or between them. But those were good months.

Clint wouldn’t mind that sort of goodness with Darcy, not at all, but first he has to know. She’s curled up on the couch, a blanket tucked around her, and she’s been half dozing for over an hour. He settles beside her, runs his fingers through her hair and decides to just bite off more than he can chew.

“Hey you,” Darcy says, “That feels nice.”

Here he goes, headlong into stupidity, like always, “Darce, are you pregnant?”

Darcy stills and he watches as she bites her lips, a nervous habit that takes her lipstick off when she’s unsure of herself, “I was waiting…do you want me to be?” and she turns her head and watches Clint’s face as he smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted: darcy/clint darcy telling clint that she's pregnant or darcy finding out she's pregnant or darcy revealing to the world that she's pregnant or a very pregnant darcy kicking ass at her job. basically i'll take pregnant darcy in any form 
> 
> You can always find/prompt/follow me at my tumblr


	164. bucky/darcy, 5 times bucky calls her doll

1\. The man who was Winter Soldier cannot bring himself to use the name everyone keeps telling him is his, and in return, he does not tend to use other’s names either if he can help it. He keeps having to meet new people as they begin to fill up the upper levels of the Tower Cap brought him to, and he calls them doc, he calls them by codenames and he calls them jackasses. He calls the one girl that catches his eye doll and she looks at him with a bemused expression. She says her name is Darcy, and that he should remember it.

2\. “We’ve got a perfectly good balcony here, boss,” Darcy whines to Jane, “Can’t we just go up there?” but of course, Jane thinks that the top of a skyscraper is a little too high up for her, but Darcy does like to take risks. She’s not alone today, Barnes has found himself a corner and tucked himself close in. Darcy’s inclined to leave him be, either he’s practicing being still or he wants to be alone. Darcy sits cross legged for a little near but not close to him.

He leaves before she does and says, “Thanks for sitting with me doll. I didn’t know I needed it.”

3\. Darcy vexes Barnes quite a bit. He has to go out of his way if he wants to see her, as she’s taken the opportunity that being in New York brings to scout out the grad programs, and she spends a great deal of time escaping the guards that they keep assigning to Foster and her. Since he doesn’t have a whole lot to do sometimes, he follows her after she throws off security again. He tracks her to a small museum. It’s disorganized and barely coherent in it’s exhibits, but she’s there taking note after note.

She’s so focused, and kind of lovely when something is capturing her whole attention, that he let’s her run into him as she’s leaving. Darcy doesn’t believe him when he says that he just coming in, but smiles and dips her head when he tells her, “Nice to see ya doll. See you at home.”

4\. Bucky does see her at home, and he does start to see this tower as home. The group that calls themselves Avengers aren’t tight-knit, but they do like each other, and anytime they fight together, they come back with a tighter bond than before. It’s almost like the only good part of the war, the companionship of people in similar circumstances. He doesn’t go out as much, choosing when he wants to fight.

Darcy waits up with him one night, and somehow the conversation turns to how he feels guilty when everyone else is gone and risking their lives and he stays back.

“But that’s okay, Bucky, it really is. They don’t think any less your choice,” she’s so painfully earnest and open that he tries to believe her, “You didn’t have a lot of choice for the past, what hundred or so years? Give yourself a break.”

“I’m not even a hundred yet doll, it’s only been like, 70 years.”

5\. “I do have a name, Bucky. You are allowed to use it.”  
“Well that’s good, because I’d really like to take you out,” he grins and adds with a quirk of his eyebrows, “doll.”

+1  
She hides an awful lot underneath her sweaters and layers, and the first time Bucky helps her with pulling her shirt over her head, exposing so much pale skin, he almost has to sit back in awe. But instead he pulls her close and runs his mouth and his tongue where between her bra and her breast, cataloging every perfect stretch mark and the salt of the sweat that he’s caused. “Fuck, Darcy…” he moans, just a little overwhelmed at how he got here and just how much more they have to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: darcy/bucky: five times bucky called darcy doll and one time he used her name. 
> 
> You can always find/prompt/follow me at my tumblr


	165. darcy/steve, bucky, motherhen

_Little Stevie’s got a girl._ James singsongs it in his head because he thinks it’s something he’d say, but he’s not sure. He’s not sure of a lot of things that he wants to say, so he usually just doesn’t want to say much. It’s probably been three days since he’s said anything more than yes or no, or Steve.

“Steve, he’s staring at me again,” Darcy says from across the kitchen, “Dude, if you are going to glare, can you at least look at my tits instead of my eyes. I’m way more used to that.”

“Little Stevie’s got a girlfriend,” he mutters. It comes out wrong. It comes out mean. Bucky tries again, in a lilting, teasing voice, “Stevie’s got a girlfriend.”

“Fuck off,” Steve calls out, but he’s laughing. Darcy’s jaw drops in amusement and her entire face lights up.

“Check it out little Stevie,” she says, “Bucky didn’t lose his voice after all. He just needed all that time to find the right words to make fun of you.”

For a moment, he feels like he expects to feel when he wakes up; like someone.

“I’m gonna celebrate. Bucky, do you like pancakes? I think we need pancakes.” Darcy starts puttering around the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out ingredients.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: darcy/steve, darcy + bucky friendship: darcy motherhenning bucky to show him he's family. 
> 
> You can always find/prompt/follow me at my tumblr


	166. darcy/steve, just wants to cuddle

Darcy’s stuffed into the back of what has to be an actual facts station wagon, and it speeds through the midwest at a terrifying rate. She’s not sure who is driving now. It’s not Jane, because Jane is slumped against the window, drooling just a little bit. And that’s probably a good thing, because Jane is a terrible driver.

It’s why she wanted an intern after all. Jane couldn’t handle the pinz.

The station wagon is filled to the brim with people. Among them, is a scuffed up Steve Rogers, still in uniform, and he’s seriously invaded Darcy’s personal space. For some reason, Darcy can’t bring herself to care. Steve’s kind of a slow moving octopus, because it just started as his shoulders against her, then his head.

And that was really nothing. There’s like five people in the back here. There’s someone sleeping with their head on the wheel well, and someone is sleeping on their stomach. It’s been a long day, picking up scientist who were stuck in the wrong places when SHIELD fell. Jane and Darcy were along to convince the intractable ones that things were okay. The point is, they are cramped for space, and if Captain America wanted to sleep, he should sleep.

But then he turned in towards her, and this is an entirely different situation. His head is in the crook of her neck (and his lips tantalizing close to skin. When they hit a bump, she gets an accidental kiss) and his heavy arm fall across her waist, landing on her thigh. Every time he moves, he relaxes against Darcy.

It’s kind of wonderful, to be honest, she could handle this all the time. And she wants a turn to fall asleep and cuddle against Steve.

His fingers move against her thigh, and his chin moves up as his eyes open slightly. Steve’s eyes start to focus and he tenses, “Dar — sor—“

“Shhh, you’ll wake everyone else,” she says and braves a kiss on the top of his head, “Go back to sleep.”

He does, and a little more care and concern unravels from his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: darcy/steve: steve's had a long day and just wants to cuddle 
> 
> You can always find/prompt/follow me at my tumblr


	167. darcy/rhodey, uniforms

“I swear upon all the hair on his head, including the grey ones that Tony thinks we don’t know about — nice try Just For Men Gel — if Tony does not walk out of that workshop in the next five minutes, I’m going to….going to.” Darcy stammers, having run out of steam.

“Find a way to end that sentence?” Darcy turns around flushed red, as much from building up a good rant and having it fizzle out on her, as from seeing Rhodey again. In uniform. Dress uniform.

See, this is new. The uniform thing. Because if it was just any uniform, she’d be in serious trouble like all the time. Because she’s around people in uniforms all the time.

But see, they aren’t military uniforms, not even Steve’s really. It’s too individual, doesn’t have the same history behind it . And that’s apparently Darcy’s thing.

It has nothing to do with the particular man filling out that uniform. Not at all.

“I find that wrangling Tony takes a certain type of finesse,” Darcy responds.

“I find that it takes about two stiff drinks a day.” Rhodey deadpans, “Tony!” that’s a holler if Darcy ever heard one, “Are you wearing a suit?”

“That depends what you mean by suit!” Tony yells back.

“I’d prefer one made out of fabric,” Darcy’s totally okay with a yelly conversation, “Considering this is supposed to be a nice restaurant, and Pepper would like to continue to go there.”

“Oh good one, tugging at the Pepper heartstrings,” Rhodey says in an aside, “You are learning quickly.”

“Always been a quick study. Go ahead, ask me about Einstein-Rosen bridges. Osmosis learning at it’s finest.”

“I’ll pass.” Rhodey laughs, “But are you going to dinner with us?”

Darcy’s eyes widen just a little bit, “I was…wasn’t…”

“You are now,” Tony says, and yes, that is a suit, “Go put on something pretty so the man has something pretty to look at.”

She does have something common with Rhodes, the way they both look at Tony are exactly the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> joomju prompted: Could you please write a little James Rhodes/Darcy Lewis? Thanks!
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	168. bucky/darcy, kidnapped

His lip twitches. His brow furrows. The girl is no one special. She doesn’t have particular skills or information, nothing that would attract trouble normally. There’s only one reason to kidnap Darcy Lewis, and that’s the draw out the people that have grown rather attached to her.

There is no doubt in his mind that this is a trap. It’s a damn good thing that the Winter Soldier does not care about traps. There is only this mission.

“It’s going to be okay Bucky,” Steve says seriously, shrugging on his gloves, tying his boots, “We’re going to find her. She’ll be back in your arms in no time.”

When his fingers tense into a fist, the mechanics groan, and his focus narrows. Because he will have Darcy back, and he will burn and salt the earth that HYDRA walks upon until she is safe. There is only the mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: darcy/bucky: bucky going winter soldier when he finds out darcy's been kidnapped and will do anything to get her back.
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	169. bucky/darcy, sex pollen

Here’s the problem. This would be easy to deal with if physical contact would actually solve anything. But whatever Bucky and his support team got sprayed with doesn’t seem to go away with just, well, satiating the want and desire. At least, that’s what the first two people report after they first round of truly practical tests.

What’s the easiest way to deal with overwhelming urges to fuck and be fucked? But they just don’t work, physical intimacy just makes it worse.  
Darcy wishes it could have been that easy. Because watching Bucky, her Bucky, reduced and bent over, begging for relief. Her being at the edge of the quarantine cell, separated only by the glass, thankfully doesn’t make it worse. He’d been begging every person to come through that door and…and nothing.

“It’ll be okay, babe, I swear, I promise. They think it’ll run through you in a few more hours.”

“Darcy, Darcy, come on, please help me here,” Bucky begs, hands in fists banging against glass. He’s still a cutting figure, stripped down and jutting proud. He’s rubbed himself nearly raw and Darcy is grateful that they asked her to come in, because she doesn’t think that when James comes back to himself, that he’d be able to look the doctors and nurses in the eye, “Please, it will all be over if you just let me….”

But it won’t be over, and Darcy can tell that what hurts just as much as the ache of want is the loss of control, the loss of ruling himself and his own body. He has been reduced to someone else’s whims and designs yet again.

James lets out a primal, frustrated yell, sinking back on his knees. He cradles his head in his hands, sobbing. And nothing Darcy says will make anything better. So she just sits just out of his reach and says words that mean nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Darcy/Bucky where BUCKY gets hit with some sex pollen. All the fics I see have Darcy getting hit by it.   
> i have issues with sex pollen so i smash that trope right up and make a different kind of horrible 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	170. Bucky/Steve,  fever talking

[](http://imgur.com/kS4Ym9m)

The last time either of them had been this sick, Steve had still been buying clothes in the children’s section of Goodwill. It hadn’t been all that long ago, and Steve’s rapid growth spurt had thankfully coincided with both of them having steady cash jobs. But those days are behind them, and no one in the house has been able to keep up with the electric, lucky enough that the water is still on, even if they turned the power off. They can still run the sink and flush.

Bucky came back that night after sneaking into a show, his dollar store eyeliner rubbed into the wells of his eyes, listless and confused. He hadn’t so much come home as been dropped to the floor by Natasha and Clint.

“Fuck, man, I think someone gave him something bad,” Clint said as Natasha and Steve kneel down beside Bucky, rolling him on his side. “Buncha kids got sick, ran up the stage and just lost it.” Clint finishes, dissolving into giggles, “Buck tried pulling them down, then fell over.”

“I think he’ll be okay though,” Natasha finishes for Clint, “Those idiots all puked. James hasn’t, he’s got a fever.”

“Be fine,” Bucky groans, not opening his eyes, curling into Steve’s lap, “cold. Warm me up Stevie.”

Clint and Natasha take that as a cue to find an open mattress in one of designated sleeping areas (“We’re broke, not uncivilized,” Sam had said, before he’d found a girl to hunker down with, “We separate where we sleep from where we are careless idiots.”) before the nights parade of drunks and heroes come to crash.

Bucky settles in more, his face tucked against Steve’s stomach, stubble rasping where Steve’s shirt has ridden up. Steve runs his fingers through his hair, and fuck, he’s burning up hot. He wants to at least run some whatever over a towel to try to cool him off. But Bucky looks as comfortable as he’s going to get right now, Steve doesn’t want to ruin that.

When they were kids, when they were just broke and living with their parents, Bucky had done this for him too many times to count. He was always catching whatever was around school, but its not like his mom was around to keep an eye on him. She had to keep food on the table. But the Barnes next door, they’d step in, made sure he wasn’t dead in his bed.

And if that had changed from Buck bringing soup over to crawling into bed beside Steve, who gave a shit?

“What you take tonight Buck?” He asks gently, cause Steve’s going to check the drug cabinet for anything useful, although he doubts anything is still there.

“Drank, that’s all. Bummed a few smokes,” Bucky answers, “You don’t approve.” Yeah, Steve’s the one that keeps him on the straight and narrow, there’s a laugh. “Stevie, little Stevie, bravest of them all.” Bucky continues, fever-drunk and starting to sprawl out. It’s aspirin for a fever, right? Bucky shoots straight up, his eyes big and wide and so blue, “‘Member when I had to pull the Baker boys off of you, god Steve, you must have not even been a full hundred pounds and you go in swinging. Then Nat, no wait, we didn’t know Nat. Did we know Nat yet?”

“You met Nat five years ago,” During the year Steve tried to go to Art School, but couldn’t hack it. Not the pressures of that environment, “What about the Baker boys?”

“You could take them now,” Bucky opens his arms and falls back over Steve’s lap. “That’s what we’ve got, Stevie, reciprocation. I got you and you got me, we got we, and we’ve got a baker’s dozen people living here and we all right. Long as we got we, right?”

Right, he’s going to have to get aspirin and get the fever down. But first he leans over, lifting up Bucky’s back so he can gently brush his hair from his forehead. Bucky grabs him by the shirt, pulls him tight and finds his lips in a messy, dirty kiss.

“Alright ya asshole,” Steve says, “Let’s find you a bed, some water and I’ll keep you warm tonight, that good?”

“Reciprocation,” Bucky repeats in response, and rolls himself off Steve’s lap, and attempts to stand on his own. He can’t; Steve has to help, “That’s what we got, Stevie.”


	171. darcy, betty ross, cousins

“I feel like the red carpet is being rolled out today,” Darcy says as she watches yet another person with a vacuum cleaner go through the hallway that connects the patchwork of personal labs together. “I mean, we get regular cleanings around here, but I think we might run out of Merry Maids in Manhatten at this point. The boss lives here, what are they cleaning for?”

“Not a what, a who.” Jane looks up, “Wait, do I actually remember a memo that you don’t?”

“Jane, how many memos do I forward to you in a day?”

Jane looks thoughtful, biting the edge of a pen, “Five or six?”

“I get about a hundred. I’m human, I forgot. Who is coming in?”

Jane looks around the room, and even though it’s empty, leans forward and for god sake’s Jane, this is your personal lab, she whispers, “Bruce’s ex, Betty. He’s a little nervous.”

And because he’s nervous, everyone else is nervous. No wonder the cleaning staff is a little frantic. They don’t want to clean up a few dozen walls. But Bruce hasn’t hulked out in months, unless he’s asked. Darcy is nonplussed, but she’s heard about Betty. Not directly from Bruce, of course, he’s tight lipped about pretty much everything that relates to the early days of his change. But from Jane and from Erik, who both have worked with her, enough that she’s always Betty, and not doctor whatever.

She’s really got to figure out why Erik is still mostly referred to as Selvig, but Betty, who is just as smart and titled as Jane. Betty has reached mythical proportions, the woman that can tame the Hulk. And that has stayed away until now. Darcy isn’t quite impressed at that.

Jane’s lab has large not-glass glass windows in the front area, and Darcy watches for the rest of the day, wondering if she’ll get to see a glimpse of this mysterious woman. The door finally opens to woman not in a building services uniform, and for a moment, all Darcy see is long wavy brown hair, as the woman maneuvers a rolling suitcase past the door. When she looks up, her features coalesce into familiarity and Betty becomes not just Betty, Bruce’s ex and very smart woman, but Betty Ross, her cousin after a fashion. The relationship was a little more complicated than that, but it settled to cousin.

Darcy lets out a yelp, and is out of her seat in less than a moment. Bruce can have his teary reunion later, Betty is family and finally, finally, Darcy has someone in the family that can relate to this craziness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> neverending-shenanigans prompted: I don't know if you care for a bit of Betty Ross, but I don't see much of her around in the MCU!fanfiction-verse and I've had this idea lingering in my head. I can't properly write that scene, though. And you seem to be able to pull of everything so... ? The idea is that Darcy and Betty could be half-sibilings (or otherwhise related girls) who lost contact for a couple of years and now very surprisingly meet in the Stark Tower? Feel free to include or exclude any pairing of sorts.
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	172. Darcy/Steve, not interested

“Uh,” Darcy says, her face freezing in a wide terrified expression, “uh.”

Shit, Steve thinks, he’s made some sort of mistake here. Everyone’s been telling him that the way to a girl’s heart these days is to be direct about it. And Darcy is brash and funny, and usually so unimpressed with him. Which considering Thor barely gets an raise of her eyebrow, he thought that was a sign that maybe if he told her that he liked her, she’d say yes.

But he knows the look on her face, is intimately familiar with the look of incipient rejection. “It’s nothing,” he lies, “I just thought…”

“Oh Steve,” Darcy bites her lip, “I kinda wish I did. Then I wouldn’t be the one woman in the world who turned down Captain America.”

“There’s been plenty of women who have,” Steve doesn’t control the speed that it comes out, fast and snippy, and Darcy’s lips, that he really wanted to kiss, flinch.

“Yeah, but they are all collecting social security,” Darcy offers, trying to get back the humor that existed between them, but Steve lets the empty space between them grow instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompt: Steve is in love with Darcy but she doesn't love him. She thinks of him as and nothing more. When he tells her everything become awkward and now Steve is heartbroken. 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	173. Darcy & Natasha, friends

I LOVE NATASHA AND DARCY BEING BROS LIKE WHOA

Here’s one way it starts:

It’s a nervous habit. Darcy hates sitting around when there is work to do, but this entire situation, a fucking storm of all things, is nothing but hurry up and wait, crammed into a tiny room with Natasha and about a dozen other people she doesn’t know. Just waiting for the storm to pass, for the power to come back on, so that there’s light besides the soft glow of emergency lighting, so that Darcy will have something to do.

She doesn’t even realize that she’s been combing her hands through Natasha’s hair, sectioning it and creating a loose, even braid, not until Natasha makes a soft contented noise, and settles a little closer to Darcy, “I could do yours next if you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompted: Had a random thought in my head, but what do you think of Darcy/Natasha friendship? Like Darcy randomly showing up places in the tower to find Tasha there and immediately starts talking to her like they have always been best friends. Darcy not being afraid Tasha's spy/assassin abilities but instead tells her that makes her even more badass. Darcy braiding Natasha's hair one day and the other woman doesn't even realize it until told. I think they'd be best friends. 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	174. bucky/darcy, secret relationship

When she kisses him for the first time, Darcy knows that this might as well be it. Darcy is going to be so goddamn gone for this fucker that she’s never going to recover. James kissed her on impulse, a beautiful impulse after spending an afternoon doing such normal things like shopping, and being drunk on having choices. New shirt, new shoes, new chances.

James took a chance on her, and now she’s utterly gone and delighted. She would love to have this with James, with Bucky, with whatever name he chooses. First kiss turns into a second and a third, and into countless more, their mouths lingering together.

When he finally pulls away, he looks weightless, young, mesmerized. But Darcy watches as his face reflects a retreat, and he looks away.

“Did I do something wrong?” Darcy asks, blinking fast and panicking just a little bit behind her eyes.

“I’m not, “ Bucky licks his lips, pulls the upper one down with his teeth, and returns redder, “The doc’s say I’m still a little emotionally unstable and ‘should take precaution in pursuing romantic relations’ because I’m cracked in the head or something. Have trouble differentiating the past from the present.”`

Darcy considers this, “But you are interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with me?” she say, letting her face dance with pleasure, ducking into his personal space.

Bucky smiles with a shyness that his bravado would usually hide, “I would.”

“So why don’t we take it a day at a time, then, keep it quiet. You can tell the shrinks whenever you want, whatever you want. But until then, let’s let us be us and see where it goes?” Darcy holds right in the perimeter of James’s space and waits for an answer.

The second round of kissing is just as brilliant as the first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Darcy/Sam or Darcy/bucky - In secret relationship 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	175. Clint/Darcy, doombots

“What the hell has happened here?” Clint says as he enters the lab, dodging a few live wires. Those shouldn’t be there. The lab benches shouldn’t be tipped over. There shouldn’t be —is that blood? — bits of metal and circuitry on the floor. Jane’s lab doesn’t do that shit, usually.

“JARVIS didn’t tell you?” Jane says, even though she’s the one that looks half asleep.

“JARVIS went down an hour ago,” Pepper responds, her hairs a mess and it’s the most inelegant Clint has ever seen her, and that includes when she wears a button-down and cutoff shorts.

A jagged piece of metal hits the wall next to Clint, and a pissed off Darcy follows after it, “Fucking doombots,” she says, her arm all cut up and bleeding. Clint doesn’t like the blood dripping off of her, it sets his heart and possibly other internal organs in a rage. He doesn’t know what to think about that. She notices him noticing, “They are pretty jagged on in the inside, did you know that?”

“They got in here?” Clint doesn’t panic, but doombots in the tower was a bad idea. Like, worse than drinking with Thor on a Tuesday morning bad idea.

“Took care of it,” Jane says, “Just don’t expect all the lights to work right for a couple of hours.”

“Or the paper shredder,” Pepper adds.

“And you might as well forget about the doombots in general.” Darcy finishes, “We’re good here though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompted: Would you mind terribly if I prompted Darcy/Anyone (preferably Clint or Bucky) - the avengers are called to fight off doombots and don't realize the real dr doom has infiltrated the tower and they arrive just in time to see that Darcy, Pepper, and Jane have somehow managed to deal with the situation but are a bit scraped up? 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	176. clint/darcy, skeeball

“Honey, baby, just trust me on this one,” Clint says, “This is a game I can win.”

“Everything is rigged and you know it,” Darcy counters.

“Yes, but I know how they are rigged. Now shut up, hand me the ball and let me win you an oversized, overpriced stuffed animal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bluroux, I know it's not Friday, but fic prompt- Clint/Darcy, Skeeball :P 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	177. bucky/darcy, domestic

“It’s just a grocery store, Bucky,” Darcy says, concern etching into the edges of her voice. James has done nothing but stare at the floor since they walked in to grab a few things for the road. “Wait, have you been to a supermarket before?”

The answer is apparently, not really. Bucky talks quietly as they go through aisles that they didn’t have markets like this growing up and that he never got to see much of anything after his fall. “And well, I think I mostly stopped in at gas stations, and well, now in New York….”

“We get our groceries delivered.” Darcy finishes, “Okay yeah, that makes sense.” She grabs pop, she grabs chips and candy, because by all that is holy, she is not going to sit in a van heading out to who knows where with Jane and their honor guard without junk food. Bucky weighs in from time to time, but keeps his gaze low still.

“So what was it,” she asks, after they pay and head back to the van, “Something was wrong in there, what was it?”

“Too bright,” Bucky says with a muffled and choked laugh, “The fucking lights were too bright and florescent and I left my sunglasses in the car.”  
It’s also a lot of things, Darcy thinks, but that’s probably the easiest to talk about. She knocks her shoulders against his, and hands him the bags, and if he falls asleep in the back seat next to her, well, that’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: bucky/darcy being domestic
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	178. clint/darcy, camping

“No,” Darcy says with the strongest of emphasis, “No. Not going.”

“That’s a pretty definite answer,” Clint frowns.

“It really is,” Darcy folds her arms, “My internship? Was six weeks of RV camping, and not even the fun kind. Now that it is a marginally paid position, which I swear is only because Jane really doesn’t want to try to explain that her work and her boyfriend are practically the same thing to yet another new person, I spend at least a week a month in the great outdoors. Newsflash: after you step in your fifth burrowing animal hole, it ain’t that great.”

Clint looks down thoughtfully. Camping was going to be such a great idea. No calls to assemble, no science to be done, just him and her and nothing else, “I really just wanted an excuse to get you away from everyone else,” he says, “And maybe screw in the woods.”

Darcy looks up at him, scratching the back of her neck as she thinks with a comical expression, “Okay, sold. But no hiking after dark. I don’t want to twist my ankle and end up in a horror movie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missusdoublea prompted: clint/darcy, camping
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	179. bucky/darcy, vandalism

No Powers! AU

Darcy’s apartment can barely be called that, and Bucky knows his squalor apartments. He’s lived in more than his fair share of them, with and without Steve (and the rotating crew of people who would sleep on their couch, floor and bathtub. Because Steve’s big wide open heart and Bucky’s inability to say no when it came to Steve big fucking heart meant that every stray in the city stayed with them) Darcy’s apartment is a special kind of mess. It’s summer, and the AC barely makes for a slight breeze, but it’s better than the heater, which only occasionally worked last winter. In general, it looks like a great place for a murder scene.

So when he lets himself in, the last thing he expects to see is a young punk kid, the kind with with more guts than glory or body mass, leaned agains the backside of Darcy’s futon with a half open bag of spray paint spilling out onto the floor. He looks at the front of the door again, and sure enough, there’s the start of a tag. Kid got in a good line before Darcy caught him. He’s also got a sketchbook in his hands, one of the many Steve has forgotten when he’s over and the little fucker is drawing in it while Darcy chops vegetables over at the kitchen table.

“Darcy? Why is there a street urchin sketching in your apartment?”

“Because we are going to brainstorm something that he can go put up around the corner, rather than ruining a perfectly good door.” Darcy says staring at the kid, “And why is that?”

“Because if you are going to deface property, it should at least look cool,” the kid says contritely. Sincerely, even.

“And?”

“You should do it to the man, because they can afford to clean it up.”

“Punk rock, that’s right.” Darcy finishes, “And I’m going to feed him because he looks like Steve’s baby pictures and that’s just not right.”

Bucky has just got to stop surrounding himself with big open hearts because someday, it’s going to get back to him that his heart is just as wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon: Darcy/Bucky prompt: Someone (who is obviously extremely mis-informed) tries to vandalize Darcy and Bucky's apartment. Darcy has the vandal put in his place before the 'Soldier' can even make an appearance. 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	180. bucky/darcy kids or pregnancy

“Have you seen Darcy?” Bucky asks Jane. Darcy was supposed to meet him for lunch. A nice, normal date. He likes those, and he likes having those with Darcy. It’s only a couple weeks in, but already he knows he likes her more than just a swing around the dance floor. “She’s an hour late.”

It takes a few seconds for Jane to respond and doesn’t look up from her laptop in the process, “Yeah, she came back from a family thing a couple hours ago. She’s running some data in the other room, maybe? At least that’s what I asked her to do this morning.” She points in the vague direction where Darcy likely is, and Bucky follows.

What he finds isn’t Darcy hunched over a laptop, consumed by work like he thought he would. Everyone got carried away, forgetting to call or text about a plan. No, no, what he finds is Darcy curled in on a loveseat, looking all the world like she’s trying to become one with the cushions. And there’s sniffling, not sick sniffles, but half held sobs that she’s trying to keep quiet.

If he hadn’t been sure of how much he already liked her, that his heart is breaking for her is enough to convince him, “Hey Darce,” he says, making sure the door is shut tight behind him.

Darcy stiffens, “Oh fuck,” she says into the couch, her voice muffled and compressed, “Lunch. Sorry.” she lifts herself up, making room for him.

“It’s alright,” he answers, coming to sit next to her. He’s not sure what to do here. Oh, he knows to comfort her, figure out whats wrong, but it’s what level of that comfort that’s always the hard part. How close do you sit? When do you touch? Is this level of emotional intimacy comparable to the physical intimacy they share? “What can I do?”

Darcy answers for him by leaning her head on his shoulder, “I don’t know. It’s uh. I was doing a whole coffee and Skype thing with my family and uh. You know, I don’t need to burden…”

“Darce.”

“My sister is pregnant.”

Bucky wasn’t even aware she had a sister. Family wasn’t a very discussed thing between them. He had the impression that she was fairly hands off with them. Not a bad a relationship, but not an exceptional bond.

“My younger sister’s pregnant and my mother insinuated that it was high time that I started thinking about settling down as well.”

So much for spy training, Bucky stiffens. Darcy notices.

“Relax hotshot, I’m not about to go trolling for a ring or nothing. Just, you know, my younger sister. Mom thinks that my master’s is a distraction from what I really should be doing with my life, always has. Seriously, high school she told me that boys don’t like smart girls.”

“I like smart girls,” Bucky finally says, “Like them just fine.”

“You’re a sweetheart underneath a brushed metal exterior,” Darcy deadpans, “She knows I’m seeing someone, and she…oh god, Bucky, this is stupid, I don’t know why I’m worked up like this!” She wipes away her tears and pulls herself together.

“She wanted to know if we’d talked about kids yet, didn’t she?” Okay, so the spy training comes in handy sometimes.

“And what am I supposed to say. ‘Sorry mom, we haven’t even had sex yet?’ yeah, that’s going to go over real well.”

“Could piss her off at least,” This might be as well a time to say it, “Never really got around to thinking about it before. Don’t really….”

Darcy waves her hand, “Not concerned. I’m an either way sort of girl. Hey look, we’ve had our first real relationship talk. I think we’re doing well enough right now without trying to think too hard about what might be, when we’ve got a lot of things going on now. I kinda really dig you, and you haven’t gone running yet from this conversation.” Darcy huffs unexpectedly, “Oh god, you know what I’ve just realized? I’m going to have to run a baby shower. That’s the worst thing ever. She’s going to expect a pinterest-level event and I can barely cut in a straight line.”

Bucky lets her rant, wraps an arm around her, thinking that for all they are taking things slow, the building is worth the construction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: bucky/Darcy kids/pregnant
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	181. clint/darcy, thighs

[](http://imgur.com/D43P3rW)

“Jane, Jane, I’m really pleased with how my life has been turning out,” Darcy nudges Jane over so that she can get a better view of the game going on, “Sure, my life is in mortal peril on average once every two years, and I can put all of the money you’ve paid me inside of a piggy bank, but it has it’s perks.”

One of those perks keeps smiling at her. Ever since SHIELD went belly-up and the Avengers ended up re-grouping and going as public as possible, Darcy keeps getting to see all these attractive perks around her. They’ve settled between New York and London, racking up frequent flier miles, and hell, this is a fantastic. They’ve got Hawkeye out here in London playing soccer. Football. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Because hell, this sort of view is worth a little threat to her life.

He’s stretching. And even Jane’s eyes keep bouncing back to Barton as he goes through perfectly normal contortions. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, but he keeps making eye contact with her. His legs go out wide, bends over and rests his hands on the grass, grinning like a loon. His ass is amazing and Darcy can tell exactly what kind of underwear he has on.

“Seriously Jane, I’m not even mad that I had to retake those six credits anyways after I couldn’t write the final paper because it was all redacted.” The game draws closer to the start, and Clint starts warming up in earnest, losing almost all of his economy of motion to a frenetic need, hopping, nearly bouncing.

His ass was great in itself, but his thighs, those are a work of art. Each lunge, every time he does a high knee, she gets to see them in motion, can see the power that he possesses. That he earned through hard work and labor, not a god, not an experiment, not the privilege of money — he earned his strength. He’s not alone with that in the Avengers, no sir, but he’s the one that smiles at her and makes her want to be between those thighs.

“You’re welcome,” Jane answers back, “Good to get out of the lab sometimes, isn’t it?”

The match is going to be a long time to wait, but Darcy’s game is going to start right after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special gift for puffabilly, since she took such wonderful photos of Renner. She provided me with her favorite photo and I wrote from it.
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	182. clint/darcy, fall

“You’re dead,” Clint’s fingers rattle and shake against the broad side of his bow. He hasn’t let go of it since he saw, well since he saw the beginning of the end and had to look away. He heard, he heard the sickening thrup-thrump, spine and limbs hitting the frame of a car.

He’s well acquainted with the sound. It’s undeniable. The woman in front of him is an imposter, a Skrull, something that is terrifying with possibilities. But there is one that is closed off to him, because Darcy is dead. He heard her scream, heard her stop screaming, and heard the worst sound of his life after he turned away to keep fighting.

“I’m really not.” Not-Darcy says. Gotta hand it to the Skrull, it has her mannerisms down pat. He could believe her (has believed them before) but he won’t be fooled. As much as he wants to reach out, touch her face, her hair, and kiss her lips she isn’t really, she’s a hallucination at best. Which makes horrible sense, without her, he would lose his tenuous grip on reality. “Clint, I’m not dead. I’m barely even hurt.”

She looks too perfect, so much like a dream.

“Natasha!” she cries out, her eyes starting to fill with tears, lips trembling. It’s too much to watch, Clint closes his eyes, and wants this to be over. “They made you see things, babe, they made everyone see things. Pepper had to come and save you all. You know how much Stark hates it when Pepper has to use Extremis. I’m okay, I tripped over some debris, that’s all. Natasha! Please come tell him I’m real.”

Natasha wouldn’t lie. Not about this, not to him. Except she’s practically made of lies, but she loves Darcy differently but as much as he does. No lies.

“They made think I was still in the Red Room, Clint,” Natasha says, “Bruce was locked forever as Hulk, they made you see Darcy fall. She’s living and breathing, Clint.” Natasha prys his fingers from his bow and links them with Darcy’s. She sobs, but she’s warm. “Do I need to hit you?” Natasha asks.

“You’re alive?” He asks this Darcy, with her mascara starting to run.

“I am,” Darcy answers and his Darcy is solid under his fingertips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Clint thinks Darcy has fallen to her death in some typical MCU style and is so drunk when she finds him that he doesn't believe she is real at first. (Maybe she was rescued by Thor, since he doesn't have a comm to let Clint know? Idk up to you) 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	183. darcy/steve, meet cute

How about a No Powers!Office- AU

The coffee slips off the top of her laptop. Okay, so it’s really her laptop, three notepads, two thick file folders, her keys and name badge and her doughnut, but it’s the coffee that falls when the elevator comes to sudden stop and Darcy and the man tucked into the corner lurch along with it. She’s lucky that it’s the coffee that she filled earlier that morning, at least when it sloshes onto her dress and her legs, it doesn’t inadvertently burn her. “God fuck!” she yells, resisting the urge to drop the rest of her shit.

The elevator doesn’t move. That is so not cool, and Darcy fumbles around with the giant pile of crap she’s been toting around because Jane forgets to put things in inter-office mail and Darcy has to spend half a day going between work sites just to drop off the damn files, all before she was supposed to sit in on a panel interview in the name of “skill-building” when really Betty hates these things and wants someone to take notes, and no one trusts Tony to actually remember the people they interview. Pepper is probably the only competent one in that panel, and now Darcy probably will have to let them down because she doesn’t have time to run out and buy a new outfit.

“Okay, you should probably breath before you hyper-ventilate,” Oh right, there was someone else in the elevator with her. Darcy finally gets a look at him, tall and built, his suit a little too tight. Like he bought it a couple of years ago and finally had reason to put it on today, and found he grew an inch. He takes the load from her hands with just one of his.

Darcy takes back the doughnut and sticks it in her mouth, mouthing the words,” Thank you,” and opens up the emergency panel on the elevator. She swallows her bite by the time she gets security on the phone. “What do you mean you don’t know how long?” Darcy doesn’t yell, because that would be rude.

“How long?” The guy says, and holy shit, blue eyes and a kind, questioning smile. Worse people to be stuck in an elevator with.

“At least an hour. Something tripped the power in the building. They are running on backups for now,.”

“So much for that interview,” he says, and settles down on the floor of the elevator. Darcy looks down at her pretty much ruined dress and joins him.

“Hi, I’m Darcy.” she says, “Where were you interviewing?

“Steve, in-house graphic design. Guess I’ll have to reschedule.” He shrugs, “If that’s the worst thing….”

“Oh don’t say that, it’ll only make things worse,” she laughs, “Hand me my phone.” he pushes it over from the top of the pile, and Darcy starts texting Pepper. It takes forever to go through, and then the signal cuts out completely, but it’s enough, “Don’t worry about it. Our schedule is wide open for you.”

The feeling she gets when he smiles with relief, big and wide and toothy, makes her think they shouldn’t hire him. There’s got to be some sort of policy about wanting to date in-office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Is it still Friday Night over where you are? I really hope it is lol coz I wanna drop a prompt :) I'm kinda in love with Steve/Darcy Meet Cute scenarios, and with the Team eventually getting in there... Would this perhaps churn any of your creative juices? LOL, Have a happy weekend! 
> 
> You can find me at  my tumblr my ask is always open for prompts!


	184. Darcy/Steve, Natasha keeps a secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Steve and Darcy don't want to go public with their relationship, but ofcourse Natasha already knows. When Sam gets tipped off that Captain America likes somebody, she manipulates the evidence so he thinks Steve likes him. Hilarity ensues. 
> 
>  
> 
> you can always find me at  my tumblr

“Natasha, what did you do?” Natasha has the gall to try to look innocent when Darcy confronts her. It’s just a look, of course, because Natasha is not at all innocent about this. Steve had gently told her that he didn’t actually need her to butt into his love life, that he was doing just fine. Two days later she was asking him how Darcy was in bed.

According to Steve, Natasha did sputter a bit when he turned up the corners of his mouth and told her. Darcy rather enjoys that healthy look of respect Natasha sends her way most of the time, but right now Darcy is somewhere between pissed and amused, probably both. Because it really doesn’t matter what Natasha actually did, it’s just a masterful bit of trolling.

“It’s almost even an accurate photo,” Natasha muses with a half smiled, wholly satisfied with herself, “It’s shopped, I can tell by the pixels.”

“The internet is going absolutely bonkers over that picture of Steve and Sam together.”

“They look good!” Natasha defends herself, “Think about it for a few moments, Darcy, the two of them together. You have to admit your boyfriend gets up a little on a the bi side of the bed in the morning,” she pauses, “Or rather, wakes up directly in the middle. I’m not judging it.”

“I’m not disputing that Nat, and that is one heap of cookies and cream that would be delicious to lap up, let me tell you, but why did you release it in the first place?”

“Oh,” It’s like Natasha didn’t realize that this was a perfectly reasonable question to ask after your boyfriend’s best gal pal photoshops a picture of said boyfriend and his best modern day BFF parading around half naked on a balcony together, “Right. Sam was starting to talk about setting Steve up with someone that was most decidedly not you.”

“So you decided to deal with that by starting an internet wide Gay Captain America frenzy?”

Natasha nods, “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Darcy wipes her face with her hand, “I really should have taken Organic Chem instead of doing the internship, really, I should have.” A stray thought passes through her mind, “Wait, where did you get the source picture of Sam in the first place?”

Natasha looks a little far away and soft, and Darcy wonders if it’s really a tell, or if Natasha’s letting her in on a really good secret. Either, Darcy is so not done with this part of the discussion and she settles in for a little wheedling out of information.


	185. bucky/darcy, sassy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I need sassy Bucky and Darcy muchness to brighten a rainy day. 
> 
> you can always find me at  my tumblr

She’s not alone in the kitchen anymore. Darcy hadn’t forgotten that all of the floors have a single elevator that ends in a common area that makes her feel like she’s lucked out and is living in the worlds weirdest hippie commune, but she certainly doesn’t expect there to be people in it all the time. Most everyone has daily stuff, most everyone has their own in-suite kitchen. So she’s not alone in the kitchen. That’s okay.

She doesn’t know who this guy is. His arm is metal, but his appearance is far more striking with dark wild hair. He looks like he’s been sleeping, Darcy recognizes the way that hair falls out of a ponytail after a rough night of tossing and turning. Or potentially fucking. Did Natasha bring someone home? Did Clint? Did Steve? All of them are wonderful mental images, because wow, she’s landed in the world of the pretty people, but they all seem a little preposterous.

“Okay, so who brought you into the neighborhood?” she asks, because tact is for people who don’t get answers.

Mister tall dark and probably deadly considering the caliber of the people that anyone brings into the tower (even Sam who is sweet and polite, is a badass of the highest order. Darcy isn’t sure how she fits in here most days) looks at her with confusion.

“I don’t know you?” He slowly says or maybe asks, like he’s not sure about this whole ‘girl in the kitchen’ concept.

“That’s understandable, I don’t know you either. So let’s start, I’m Darcy. I make sure that labs don’t blow up. And you?”

“Bucky Barnes, I like to blow things up.” Bucky says with a sly but very fake smile, and looks into the sink full of dirty coffee mugs.

“Then you can stay out of the labs.” Darcy points out and slides one over to Bucky. Now she has context, and five days of memos and warnings about the ‘potentially unstable but we swear he’s getting better’ Barnes coming to stay with Steve. Darcy also remembers that it’s Date Night, and Sam and Steve probably came back about a half hour ago to lock themselves in Steve’s room.

Bucky catches the mug before it starts to slide off the counter (Darcy has no aim. Other people have aim for her), “But what if I wanted to see you?”

Oh good line. “Then you can come see me somewhere else.” Oh man, she’s going to do this, “Like my room.” The memos said nothing about befriending or you know, comforting the ex-brainwashed soldier. And he’s hot and looks like he’d been sleeping on the couch because he’s a good enough guy to not interfere with Date Night, and that’s at least worth getting to know him.

“I don’t know about that. You got some flicks up there?”

“Oh Buck-o, I’ve got an external hard drive with your name on it.” she laughs in-between the words and after they get coffee and raid the cabinets for anything sweet and plentiful, she has decades of culture just waiting for him.


	186. bucky/darcy, marriage proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Bucky/Darcy - Bucky asking Darcy to marry him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Bucky/Darcy - Bucky asking Darcy to marry him. 
> 
> you can always find me at  my tumblr

There’s a time and a place for everything, Darcy supposes. She and Bucky have been heading down this path for quite some time, after she started including him on her daily rounds of making sure the people least inclined to stop to eat or sleep had the chance to do so. She found him in the weight room or the range most nights, Bucky trying to work himself to sleep, and it didn’t always work.

He taught her how to deadlift, how to do real squats, and how to shoot. Eventually she would wear the edges of his nightmares away long enough to fall asleep, and it was so achingly slow at times, waiting for him to not just be willing, but ready, for her to be there when they woke him up.

So yes, she says, when he asks if he can marry her. If he can have her as nothing temporary, but permanent, a fixture in his life. Darcy just doesn’t expect to after she’s setting personal records for her deadlift and showing off her hard won muscles. But there it is, Bucky laughing so hard until he says, “I love you, marry me. The ring’s up in my room.”

She kisses him, sweat meeting sweat and tears, all that mingles together, just like them.


	187. Clint/Darcy, ho hey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bluroux prompted: Clint totally believes that the Lumineers song "Ho Hey!" is his and Darcy’s song. Even though it’s not his usual style There’s something about the lines " I don’t think you’re right for him. Look at what it might have been if you took a bus to China Town. I’d be standing on Canal and Bowery. And she’d be standing next to me." that makes him think of her."
> 
> you can always find me at  my tumblr

Clint knows he’s not all that good with words. Not when it matters. He can be a shit all he wants, talk himself up and put himself down, at the end of the day, if it’s important the words feel ripped from his throat. Balled up and torn straight through and dead on the floor. Kicked in the dirt. It’s not all that much better with actions either, because he doesn’t always have the brightest of ideas.

Case in point: tagging along with Natasha after she decided that Foster and Lewis weren’t going anywhere, and that she should probably get to know them. Nat can be prickly, doesn’t like taking the time to invest her friendship if she feels it will be transitory. Clint doesn’t have this problem. When everyone seemed to gravitate towards Stark’s tower after the fall of SHIELD, and Thor came in dressed in a t-shirt and jeans that were both a little on the side of obscenely tight, with Foster, Lewis, and Selvig in tow, Clint chatted them all up immediately. Clint likes people, likes to know them, see them tick. What buttons he can push to slide them right out of their comfort zone. How he can make sure that he’s noticed but not understood with him.

He didn’t except Darcy Lewis to seemingly not give a rat’s ass about how he operated. She reveled in his running commentary on the efficiency of their lab setup. She taunted him when he teased.

He didn’t expect to fall ass over heels for her, that’s what he’s thinking here, and now he’s gone out with Natasha to pretty much nurse a drink. Hopefully, he’s staying on this side of creepy and not staring. He’s probably staring.

“If you like her, you should try saying something,” Natasha puts a shot down of something very colorful. Aww, she cares.

“That hasn’t always worked well in my favor in the past.”

Natasha clucks her tongue, “And sleeping alone does you so many favors,” she nudges the drink closer, “drink your courage down and try. If it doesn’t work, you’ll be going to the same bed anyways.”

“Couch, really,” Clint admits, “Mostly I fall asleep on the couch.” He eyes the drink. It’s at least a double shot and it’s layered, “If I drink this, I might just fall asleep there anyways? Do I want to know what this is?”

Natasha gives him a look. He doesn’t think she’s going to poison him and it’s been a long time since she got the drop on him. And even if she did, it wouldn’t be permanent. It’s fruity and cheap and burns on the way down, and fills him with a warm rush in his chest.

Darcy is at the bar, trying to convince Jane to try what she’s drinking. Jane seems more of the designated driver type, for all that she can be a little strange. She’s tightly held where Darcy is loose and open. Darcy flirts with the bartender, Jane was probably the sort that brought her textbooks to the bar on Friday nights.

Natasha’s right, if he wants the chance to do a little more than stand next to Darcy and trade half-assed barbs at each other, he’s got to take the risk. He’s gotta get his aim straight though, he can’t miss this at all. He ambles towards the bar, Nat slapping his back as he passes her. Clint’s gotta get this right.

“This seat taken?” Some other guy says, saddling up next to Darcy. He doesn’t step too close, doesn’t stick in her personal space.

Darcy’s eye’s slide down. The guy’s eyes do not.

“No, it’s not.” and she turns the chair towards the man and smiles.

If the guy were an asshole, if he had leered his way next to Darcy, assumed that her space was his to take? This would be easy, he could go and spread a little intimidation around. After Darcy fed him his own lips, of course. He’s all about women doing it for themselves.

Instead, he just turns back to Natasha’s booth, taking his time in his walk of dejection.

"You are still being an idiot," Natasha says, Jane having joined her after Darcy had turned her conversation the other man. Clint’s not even going to value him with a nickname. "Now you are just being a different kind of idiot."

"How is Clint being an idiot?" Jane asks.

"Yeah, how is Clint being an idiot?" Clint echoes. He’s not stupid enough to barge in on what could be a budding relationship. With someone normal. Someone who doesn’t have a high likelihood of dying within the next year and who doesn’t have an entire organization of actual Nazi’s after him.

“Clint likes Darcy,” Natasha explains, “Darcy is talking with that nice young man at the bar there, and Clint doesn’t even want to pull up a stool next to her.”

“Clint doesn’t want to get in the way,” He says.

Jane looks between then, “Christ, I thought my team was ridiculous. At least mine gets shit done even when foregoing pants.”

“Is that just Selvig still, or has it spread?” Natasha smiles, “If it’s spread to Thor, I might just have to spend more time with your team.”

Clint starts to ask if it isn’t Jane on Thor’s team, and thinks way better of it. It’s Jane’s team. It will always be Jane’s team.

“Still just Selvig,” Jane confirms.

“That’s a shame.”

Jane turns her attention back to Clint, “Go talk to her. Now. Before anything happens between them.” Jane needs a better threatening voice, but this one is fairly effective. Clint sits still for an uncomfortable few seconds before inching out of his chair, the twin glares of Jane and Natasha steady on him.

He’s in luck, at least, the other seat is still open, and he saddles up on it, feeling warm and lit up from inside. Whatever Natasha gave him is opening up within him, hitting his bloodstream. He’s still like, 88% sure it was just alcohol. Maybe 85%.

He signals the bartender, meeting his eyes briefly, “Hey Darce,” he says, because he’s cool and relaxed like that, “What are you drinking?”

And it’s just like that. Her focus shifts, her eyebrows life and maybe she hasn’t forgotten the other man, but she’s clearly slotted him somewhere else.

“It’s one dollar domestic night,” Darcy says with a smile, “If you’ve got a dollar, you can buy a me drink, Barton.”

It’s a whole new night.


	188. clint/darcy, packed lunches

“I think it’s sweet,” Natasha pulls her’s out without even looking, a monstrosity of a sandwich, which if Clint thinks about, is probably piled high with thin-cut turkey and any vegetable that Darcy could find, all on something dense and hearty. “Did she relent to the purple?”

“It’s a fine color for any and all genders,” Clint is adamant about this, and Darcy so far is humoring him with the color of the baby’s room, provided she has veto over the shade, “She doesn’t object to the purple, but does not see a way past, as she calls it, ‘Easter in the South Lavender,’ we’ve still got a few months, I’ll figure it out.”

Tony is still rummaging through the box, pulling out sandwiches for everyone, as well as a random assortment of cookies that have been making their little kitchen smell heavenly for days. Clint’s got to say this for a well-planned mission, having lead up means deliciousness just appears.

“Hey,” Tony whines, which is probably a sound that Clint’s going to have to get used to soon. At least he’ll have to deal with age-appropriate whining, “I don’t have one. Why did she not make me one?”

Steve walks up the ramp, his eyebrows knit together and a puzzled expression, holding a small, foil-wrapped package “Can anyone tell me why Darcy just up to the deck and shoved this into my hands?”

“I knew Darcy wouldn’t forget me!” Tony says, holding out his hand expectantly and unwraps his delicacy, “Did she give me peanut butter and jelly? Really?”

“That’s my girl,” Clint says to himself, “Leaves no man behind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch-the-pot prompted: Prompt possibly? Clint/Darcy pack lunches? 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	189. Bucky/Darcy/Steve, something genderswapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon promised: I always love Bucky/Darcy/Steve. Could I see something with them genderswapped? Always!male/female is cool, as is it done by some random villain or accident. 
> 
> I have no idea what this is, but I think it fits.
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr

“So, hey, you have breasts today,” Darcy’s face is complicated, and she wears complicated pretty well most days, but she’s trying to hold back her twitching eye, “I feel like if this is some sort of life event for you, it’s something you would have mentioned before.”

Steve sighs, and he’s been sighing ever since Bucky got released from medical, “It’s temporary Darce, and have some compassion, Bucky got hit with a —“

“Boob ray?” Darcy struggles and chokes down her laughter but fails, “Does it go in reverse? That would be way easier than my inevitable reduction.” Darcy bobbles around a little bit, “Tell me Buck, have you poked them yet?”

Bucky cannot take it anymore. He cannot take anymore of Steve looking halfway to sad about something as ridiculous as temporary tits, “Poke them, babe?” He knows exactly what he looks like when he looks through his eyelashes, “Whatever do you mean?”

Darcy shakes her head, “Well, take off your shirt and I’ll show you some rudimentary physics. Steve, you can judge which are better.”

“I don’t think there’s a loser in this game.” Bucky says, “And it’s certainly not Steve.” Darcy does poke, and Bucky’s science mammaries jiggle a little, “How in the world do you get anything done?”

“I wear sweaters a lot.”


	190. bucky/darcy, more than she appears

You gotta take what you can get, these days, Darcy thinks, and what she’s got is pretty damn sweet. Where else is she going to go. Her blessedly brilliant friends, the ones with 4.0’s and prospects? They’ve got jobs at Starbucks and grad school so they can try to salvage their dreams and line them up to the reality of a word that was stacked against them before there were aliens at their door and a generation of double agents revealed.

Darcy’s lucky. Darcy’s at least somewhere where the political is not only personal, but it’s practically galactic as well. She’s going to write a book someday on the day to day assessments that the Avengers make, that even Jane makes, that Darcy herself makes as she organizes Jane’s life for her. They live on the edge of paranoia.

But it’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you. Darcy’s name wasn’t on that list, but her scientists were right there. Right there and moments from destruction

Bucky Barnes comes back in inches and full of that paranoia, and Darcy, like well her heart breaks for him. He’s got far more right than she does to his insecurity and twitches and he haunts the tower, not like a ghost because you always know where he is that day. He gets into everything, and wants to know everything. Darcy helps, because the first thing she really learned in school is that the person that knows the most, understands the most, that’s the person that wins in the end.

She doesn’t know where he comes from most days, appears behind her, slides next to her and asks as she’s typing away on the computer, what she’s doing.

What Darcy is doing, is cross referencing the less known names on the kill list, looking through it for patterns between the people. “Why is a valedictorian from butt-fuck Idaho important but any number of Harvard grads aren’t?”

“Not figuring out why you aren’t on the list?”

Darcy stills her fingers, “No, i get why I’m not on that. People like me talented but not exceptional? You can find on the street.”

“Not exceptional?” Bucky briefly smiles once, then twice, “You don’t think you’re exceptional?”

“I think I got a pretty clear indication of just how high my worth is.” Darcy rolls her eyes, but Bucky takes her hand, stands closer than he ever has to her before. Darcy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t find it uncomfortable at all, it’s just the natural reaction of her body that leaves her heart jumping out of her chest.

“Pretty exceptional Darce, to want to find the patterns among the hidden.” His fingers graze over her knuckles and she turns her hand so she can take what seems to be a huge leap and wrap their fingers together. “You spend enough time not knowing anything, least of all your name, and get to understand that the best of people spend their time looking out for those considered the least of us.”

Darcy doesn’t let go of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted: Prompt! I'd love something with Bucky/Darcy where Darcy is actually way way smarter than she shows to the world and also has self-confidence issues but she always appears like she knows she's the bomb. Would love to see something with her using her political science degree hard core as well as still masquerading as Jane's flunky/assistant. Would also love Thor being smart (instead of dumb- he's just not used to earth) and people stupidly writing Darcy off. Also up for Steve/Darcy/Bucky. 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	191. Darcy/Steve, injured while away

"You know it isn’t the same thing, right?" Maria says, as if that’s supposed to make Steve feel better. It’s not working, because Maria is actually shit at making anyone feel better. "You can try to justify it all you want, but you getting hurt doesn’t hold the same weight."

"Are you trying to make me feel worse about this?" He’s been trying to minimize the sheer ache in his heart and his gut ever since they got the message four hours ago that three Stark Labs were the targets of, well, human weapons. People keep trying to make that happen and it’s terrifying every time. Steve’s a weapon too, but he’s meant to remain a living one. These people are just set up to die.

"Actually, no. I don’t hold much stock in that sort of platitude. It’s different when it’s you getting hurt and when it’s Darcy getting hurt." Maria states so matter of fact that it’s almost a monotone, but she softens, "Darcy getting hurt is a tragedy."

Darcy getting hurt took the form of getting trapped in a burning building, smoke inhalation and her lungs won’t likely ever be the same. She’ll live because she’s got access to the best care money can buy.

"And my getting hurt isn’t?" Steve asks and how did he even get into this discussion, anyways.

Maria shrugs, “An inevitability. I can see you thinking from the other side of the chopper, Steve. You’re concerned about her health, but you trust Stark when he assured you she’s alright. No, you are thinking if this is how she feels every time she handles the initial injury report and if it kills her like it’s killing you.”

The women in Steve’s life always have him nailed down. Peggy could encourage him when his mind let him down, Natasha would always egg him on, and Maria knows his inner thoughts like they were his own. And well, then there’s Darcy, who has the heart and the will to match his own, and is willing to share with him.

"And it’s not," Maria continues, "Because she gets it. She worried, but she doesn’t let it take her over. You love a practical woman, Rogers."

"I know I do," This still isn’t helping, mostly Steve’s just confused, "But she still will do…."

"Darcy knows that the risk to her is far smaller than it is for you and doesn’t back down from it. Because like you, she’s a bit of an idiot. She rescued a puppy while the Destroyer was tearing up a small town. But she won’t want you to take this as an opportunity to start worrying more about her."

"Worrying more?" Steve smiles, close lipped because that’s what he knows to do.

"I’ll grant you a certain amount of worry," Maria lofts, "I granted Darcy the same amount too. You just can’t let the worry hold you down."

That at least, is comfort. That they will always worry about the other, even if the risks are unequal. Once he sees her well then maybe he can figure out an appropriate amount to worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted: Would you be willing to write a one shot of Darcy/Steve where she got injured by a villain while he was gone away on a mission? 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	192. bucky/darcy,  you and me and your friend steve

"So uh, what’s the deal with you and Steve?" Darcy asks, dropping her backpack on the cafeteria table that Bucky sits at before school starts. It’s roughly the only time that he gets to see Darcy most days, since her parents are not on board with her dating anyone, much less dating someone not in the right zip code.

They make do. Having friends in common helps.

"Excuse me?" He asks, because what deal with him and Steve?

"I mean, I get that he’s your best friend and everything, and he’s really important, but he’s on you like radar." Darcy unzips her bag and sits close to him, her leg bouncing next to his, and he’s really got to figure out a way to get them alone before he explodes. "And when I’m near you, it gets worse. Wait two minutes." She pulls out a textbook to study and he holds her hand under the table.

It’s nice, that’s what it is.

A minute later, Steve drops down next to him, his skinny frame bumping against his, handing him a small foil-wrapped package, “Hey Buck. Henderson’s made extra muffins this week, wanted you to have some.”

Steve’s touching him, his leg pressed up next to his, just like Darcy’s, just as if they were crammed together. But they are the only ones at the table. Bucky looks at the muffin, looks at Steve and then at Darcy with a growing unease.

“I uh, have to go.” He likes the feeling of them both a little too much to stay there, and it is freaking him out, and he grabs the muffin, kisses Darcy’s cheek and runs the fuck out of there.

What’s the deal with Steve? Apparently there’s a lot that is the deal.

Darcy catches up with him, “So? You see it now?”

“Yeah, thanks. What do you want me to do with it?” The bell rings, but neither of them move. He likes Darcy, but this was sort of a douche move on her part.

She smiles, “You needed to know, that’s all. Because you either are going to string him along without either of you realizing it, or you can figure it out what it is you want.”

“But I want you,” Bucky says, and it’s entirely the truth, Darcy’s just about everything he wants and likes in a girl. But Steve is, Steve’s the guy that will never drop him.

Darcy’s still bright and cheerful, “ Duh, I’m awesome,” she leans in closer with a look like she’s part of some vast conspiracy, “I’m pretty sure that if it comes to it, you wouldn’t lose either of us.” and kisses him quickly before the hall monitor sees them before walking down the hall at a clipped pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompted: Prompty-please? Bucky/Darcy with Steve as a friend that's always around bugging Darcy - Inspired by that song "what's the deal with you and your friend steve? why's he always here?'' 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	193. bucky/darcy/steve, autumn

Bucky likes the fall. After the heat of summer, it’s nice to shrug on a hoodie and not have to endure the looks and glares, whether or not he’s wearing his prosthetic, or be insufferably hot because he’s wearing long sleeves to cover it up. It’s chilly without being cold, without it sinking into his veins, feeling like he’s going to lose the other arm now too. It’s a pity that there’s really only two seasons in the year where he feels relatively normal, where he can just go to class and no one stares at him.

It’s not like he’s resentful of the incredibly technologically advanced prosthetic arm that Steve had somehow arranged for him, another one of the minor miracles the punk performs on a regular basis. They’d both fallen into the thinly iced over pond, and Steve blames himself since he came out intact and Bucky hadn’t; Steve had pulled favor after favor, connections that Bucky didn’t know he even had, and probably some good old strong-arming until things fell into place. There’s no going back after that, Bucky kissed him that day and has continued to do so ever since.

But there’s another reason he likes the fall.

“They haven’t raked yet off the bike trail,” Darcy runs up between him and Steve, tugging at the bottom of his sleeve. Bucky has a habit of folding his fingers up into his sleeves, and Darcy loves to play with the frayed edges at the cuff. Her fingers sneak in and she takes his hand in hers. He doesn’t even have to look to see that she’s wormed her way into Steve’s grip too. “We should head over once my 3 o’clock is finished and have ourselves a leaf fight.”

“Are we 5 year olds today?” Steve teases.

“Aren’t we 5 year olds most days? You have a juice box in your backpack, don’t you?” Darcy retorts, “Oh excuse me, it’s a electrolyte workout mix or some crap. Now, it’s just Friday, and I don’t feel like hitting the bars, just want to romp around the path with you guys.”

They’d met Darcy when she was a freshman, and Bucky and Steve had headed up their dorms Welcome Weekend. She’d stuck with them afterwards, first as a welcome addition to study group that met on their floors lounge, and then as something far more interesting than the pile of books she’d drag from the library to write history papers.

Unless you count the time that Bucky hadn’t bothered to clear off the bed before pining her to it, her hair spreading out over the hardbound covers.

“And I’ve hard a really tough week with my papers, and all I want to do is play in the leaves and forget about school for a little while.” She continues, “Come on,” she pulls at Steve’s hand, “We can bury Bucky and he can scare the runners passing by.”

“That is a first rate idea,” Bucky laughs, “I’ll meet you outside of your building, even if Steve doesn’t want to go.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Well, only if we get to freak out joggers…”

Bucky always has liked the fall. He just has more reasons now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: I know it's not friday, but any chance of a possible Darcy/Bucky (or maybe Darcy/Bucky/Steve?!) prompt with autumn leaves? *offers cookies and scampers* 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	194. Darcy/Steve, bug bites

“Which do you want? Calamine or aloe?” Darcy holds up two bottles. Steve’s a little more familiar with the calamine, and he holds out his hand for the pink bottle. “Oh don’t be ridiculous, Steve, you got bit everywhere, even you can’t reach your back. Why didn’t you have the doctors do this?”

“It didn’t seem so bad a couple of hours ago,” Steve says, “I didn’t think I really needed anything, should have healed up real quick.”

“Was that after the mutant bugs ate your shirt and started in on your skin?” Darcy blinks as she looks over the sheer expanse of Steve’s back and every one of the raised red marks, “Lie down on your stomach.”

Steve does, lies down on on her tile floor, pulling his white t shirt over his head, and Darcy takes a breath and just a moment to appreciate that Steve came here for this, when he could have gone anywhere. Anyone in the tower would gladly get their hands on Steve. “Jesus,” Darcy exhales, because his back looks torn up, “You’ve been scratching up a storm, haven’t you? That’s why it won’t heal, you just keep reopening the scabs.”

His skin his hot, his skin is paler than she thought, she wants to touch his skin with something more than just clinical appreciation. She sets to work, dotting every bite with the pale pink lotion. But there’s something bubbling inside of her and when he sighs when her fingers graze over an unbitten part of his shoulder, she has to ask, “So come to me? It can’t be my totally swank tile floor. Everyone has that.”

Some muscle or another tightens and relaxes, “If I say you were the first person that came to mind when I thought of who I wanted to touch me, would that be appropriate?”

Darcy lays her hand flat on his back, “Totally appropriate. How about I finish this part up and then we can talk before you turn over?”

“Probably a very good idea,” and Darcy can see his smile from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted: Bug bites! and soothing and Darcy/Steve or Darcy/Bucky...I really hate bug bites, btws. 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	195. Coulson/Darcy, secret marriage

The warmth of his hands pulls her in every time. It’s not the thrill of a sly finger that slides over a bare patch of skin when the meeting is dismissed, because Darcy has long gotten past the point where an invitation to stay sends her heart racing.

“A moment of your time, Miss Lewis?” Phil says, and it’s the way he says it, bland and unaffected to most others, Darcy hears what he tries to take out of his voice. The rough affection and heat that color his words the moment the door is closed. She doesn’t know what he will want right now, a conversation, a confirmation, a confrontation that leaves her gripping the edge of his desk and their mouths locked together to no one else can hear her scream. And every so often, it’s actual work and a disappointment.

The door closes, the door locks, and Phil’s hand is around her wrists, playing with delicate skin and lifting them up to press his lips against the veins. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” he says, and it’s very sweet, the way he listens for footsteps and the sound of heels down the hallway outside of his office before pressing Darcy against door and apologizing for the fact that he works hard, that he works in things that he can’t discuss. Which he doesn’t need to do, if that was a problem, Darcy wouldn’t come back to him.

Of course, he apologizes with his hands and his tongue and his teeth, so there’s a lot of good reasons to come back behind closed doors.

“Just what would it take,” she says, drawn out and ragged, “To make this something more permanent?”

Phil pulls back, “Darcy, you know that —“

She waves him off, “I’m not saying open. I’m saying permanent. Different things, the world can have Agent Coulson, I want Mister Coulson. I want Phil as a constant in my life.” She takes his hand, places it at the edge of her skirt, willing and daring him to take this step.

His hands slide up, the fabric bunches, and skin meets skin, “I can look into ways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompted: Can you do a Phil/Darcy smut + secret marriage
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	196. bucky/darcy, dancing

The music isn’t quite right. It has all the elements of what Bucky knows, even the lyrics are near what he expects. But there’s a different sort of pep, a different beat — he’s never been a music guy, just knows if he likes something or not. It’s a good song if it’s one a girl would dance to, no matter if she was talented at it or not.

So nothing seems wrong, it just seems off, and Steve doesn’t listen to their music much, so it also seems off that it’s coming from the common room. Natasha setting up another joke, perhaps, but Bucky is still drawn to the room, and tenses in expectation.

Between couches and a coffee table, in the center of a whirlwind of papers and books, sticky notes of various colors, and what appears to be a poster board timeline is Darcy. She’s two-thirds asleep on her back, her laptop falling off her stomach and a pen on the floor from where it’s fallen out of her mouth, and exhaustion colors her face. He probably shouldn’t wake her, but it doesn’t look comfortable.

"I don’t think I’ve seen this much paperwork since the war, kid."

Darcy’s eye shoot awake and disorientated, blinking as she figures out where she is and who is talking to her, “I’m not sure you are old enough to call me kid.”

And that’s why Darcy’s a sweet girl. He gets enough of the geriatric jokes from everyone else, but they are suspiciously absent from Lewis. And Lewis has declared open season on everyone’s foibles. Maybe she’s just treading lightly, but he doesn’t think so. She has jokes about superpowered magnets being his ultimate weakness.

"Shit," she peers at her laptop screen, straining to lift her head to see it, and then drops back, "I’m never getting this done on time."

"What are you working on?" He asks, torn between moving the crooked laptop and sitting behind her and straightening out the papers.

"Thesis chapter due in, ugh, five hours." Darcy groans, "Well, that was restful." From the looks of it, it wasn’t at all.

"Wait, still? Weren’t you supposed to defend —" He stops when he sees the face that Darcy makes, aggravation and resignation in tandem.

"Pushed it back, again. My advisor hates me and has no respect for my day job. I had to go over his head."

The music changes again, and it’s still a song that’s on the edge of something he knows. Darcy pulls herself together, moving her laptop and the pen and sitting up to the coffee table. “Caffeine.” she says, mostly under her breath, and no, he’s not going to let her keep working like this.

"How much more you got?" He asks.

"Couple pages maybe. Not the world’s fastest writer though, I should coffee and plow right through before I pass out for good." She draws herself up to her feet and ambles in a slow beeline to a keurig set up for instant gratification.

The song finally registers in his mind, the lyrics recognizable, even if he doesn’t remember this singer. After I kinda straighten my tie she has to borrow my comb. He doesn’t sing it right, but he gets it now.

Darcy looks confused, “It’s like you don’t even know it, wait…” With a quicker walk she backtracks to her laptop, “Right. Fifties, that’s why. You weren’t all around then. But the song goes back to the 30’s.”

“I know, I was there.” Bucky holds out his hand, “I think I can remember how to dance to it. Let me help wake you back up so you can work.” He thinks he gets it, the need for her to finish before she can really relax, but he wants to help just for a moment. She takes his hand and he pulls her in to a mostly appropriate distance. It turns out that dancing is not like riding a bike. It doesn’t come right back to you, and it take more than a few steps for him to find a rhythm and it takes more to coax real movement out of Darcy.

She laughs, and she’s terrible at taking more than a couple of steps, but by the time the song and the next song is over, she’s moved closer to him. Darcy’s not light on her feet but she’s lighter in the eyes.

“I should let you work,” Bucky says, and that should be his time to let go, twirl her around and let her sit down in her self-made cyclone, but he doesn’t. Darcy leans in, presses her lips against his and he responds in kind. It’s brief and more than pleasant but he doesn’t press further, he doesn’t want to stop. “Should really let you work.” he says, softer and lower.

“Thank you,” Darcy’s smile is light too, something sweet and golden to remember in the daybreak of his mind, “I’ll find you later?”

All Bucky can do is nod, say yes after a beat and pretend that he’s like the song playing in the background, recognizable but not the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompted: Darcy/Bucky - 30s/40s music, Darcy dancing in the kitchen, cooking, and the music draws him in? I love the idea of a dancing Bucky. I also love your work but that's more then obvious ;) 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	197. clint/darcy, soulmark procrastination

The procedure loomed large over Darcy’s life. She’s the middle child of a soul-bound marriage, and both her siblings seemingly only desire was to get the procedure when they turned eighteen. Darcy let her birthday come and go, with her parents somewhat baffled support, without going through the accompanying rituals.

It’s just always seemed a bit of hooey, even if it seems that the rituals and procedures have just always existed, part of nearly every culture and society so much so that the absence of the soulmark conferment was the subject of intense debate amongst anthropology students, just waking up to the differences of the world around them. It just seems like wishful thinking, that you can undergo a ritual, passed down through the ages but never spoken of directly, and come out with a fresh tattoo on your wrist that signifies another person.

It just pings her bullshit meter. And there’s only so many variations on marks it seems, of course you’d find someone who matches.

But then Jane had a mark that she claimed her tattooist had never seen before, and right up until she had run over Thor, she was alongside Darcy in thinking it was mostly a quaint tradition. A marker of coming of age, but nothing to take too seriously. And then there was Thor, and Jane sometimes went bereft of her scientific reasoning when it came to Thor.

"You ever think of going through with it?" Clint asks, fiddling with her wrist and tracing the bones of her fingers with his own. She’s the last to be checked out after a minor incident in the lab, and patiently waiting is not a strong suit. Clint’s sweet to wait with her, awkward in his obvious affection and both of them not sure what to make of it, "The procedure?"

Darcy shrugs, “I don’t think I could keep my mouth shut.” You can’t talk about the ritual before the tattoo. Those that did, well, the world can be unkind and cruel. Clint’s sleeves are rolled up and she’s spent a lot of time contemplating just how hard he must have worked to be that ripped and not a supersoldier that she’s never looked at his wrist. He’s not marked either. “What about you?”

"I was too poor when I eighteen to get it and then, well, there’s a subset of society where identifying marks aren’t a great thing to have." Clint looks a little glazed, seeing their naked wrists so near each other, and when his eyes return to hers they have the remnants of long-held bitterness in them, "My parents matched. It didn’t help their relationship one bit."

"Mine were too. But they were happy." And it’s true. Her parents were immensely happy and in love. But it’s not a given, and you don’t always meet a match. "I’d still rather figure it out on my own."

Clint laces their fingers together; they fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> neverending-shenanigans prompted: I’m procrastinating the conclusion to my second of four termpapers for this summer. Promptfile, though? As in — could I ask for Darcy/Clint ‘procrastination-on-a-soulmark’-thing? To help me procrastinate further?
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	198. bucky/darcy/steve, bookshop

"Eventually, I think that the government is going to cotton on to the fact that while I make practically negative money, I enjoy some mighty fine perks and is going to want to collect on the large sum of money they loaned me to go to college." Darcy says, shelving a book, an actual book in an actual library in Stark Tower. Stark might not know this room exists, a little lending library for the superhero types. But it’s filled to the brim with books left in the tower. They just all get shunted here, and Darcy likes coming in here and making herself useful.

As opposed to all the rest of the times when she’s not useful, of course, which is never. She’s always of use. But tonight she’s dragged Steve and Bucky to the room with her after Bucky expressed astonishment at the sight of one of these semi-mythical paper books that Darcy was reading. If he missed them, then he can help her sort them, that’s the rule.

"How much are we talking about here? Your loans, that is?" Steve asks, lips curled tight in a scowl.

Darcy doesn’t want to think about it, “Five years of a private university isn’t cheap, Steve. Even with my scholarships and grants, it’s…substantial.” Darcy makes it sound like she’s not even sure of the number. That’s not true. She knows the number like it’s tattooed on her heart.

"Stark would probably buy you out if you asked him," Bucky says from a different pile of books. "Drop in the bucket probably."

"I don’t really want to be beholden to Stark for the rest of my life. It’s okay, I’m on one of the income based programs and seeing as I have no income, I’m not paying anything yet."

"Yet." Her boys say in unison, but it’s Steve who continues on, "What happens where you want to move on from here?"

She’s thought about that; she’s happy. She’s got two men that she doesn’t deserve and a relationship status with them that would make her great-aunt Patty faint dead away. The work she does is mostly challenging, even if she doesn’t get paid. She should be getting paid for it, if she were honest. She’d likely be able to get a good salary with her experience and recommendations by now.

“You are going to get restless someday,” Bucky says, “Probably not with us, but with all of this. Not because it isn’t exciting but because it isn’t…”

“If you say stable or conducive to having kids, I will find something to shoot you with.”

“That’s not it, you’ve got better things in your head than unpaid intern or the person that sorts the books people leave in the lobby,” Bucky’s firm, firmer than he usually is with her, “And eventually you are going to wake up and realize you want to run with the wolves and where will you be?”

Darcy doesn’t like where this is heading, “I don’t want either of you paying off my student loans.” But it’s true. She wants to be useful, and right now, she can live with that meaning that she’s of use to Jane but there’s a big world out there and she’s treading water until she figures out what that really means to her.

“Okay, we won’t,” Steve says, because he’s the one that actually will listen to what she says. He may still go behind her back, but he listened at some point, “But maybe you should start by asking for a salary.”

Darcy shuffles a couple of books around, stacks and restacks them without any order. She’s got more opportunity here than most of her classmates, even those that didn’t need massive amounts of financial aid to complete school. And she isn’t using it for anything except landing the two best men anyone could want. Totally laudable goal, but it doesn’t really help anyone but herself.

“I’ll do some research, I guess, and start figuring out what that should be.” Because when the boys are united, they are usually right about something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Darcy/Steve(/Bucky?) Books, reading, bookshop 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	199. bucky/darcy/steve, tea early grey hot

Steve doesn’t know the woman that hands him a thermos of tea, and by the time he turns to ask what kind it is, the citrus against his tongue is soothing, she’s gone. He’d tried to find her, because his memory fills in some of the blanks: a kind, concerned smile, a voice that goes high but rough at the edges, and soft-looking hair, and he really should thank her. It’s nice to know that people still do that sort of thing.

For a moment, the heat made him forget that he’s waiting for Bucky to come back, to see what remained or what he has rebuilt of himself. There’s so many tests, and they threw him out of the room for hovering too loudly.

He doesn’t really want to think about it too much, the way he wants to just take his body and curl it around Bucky and protect him. Even if it’s the last thing Bucky would want. They didn’t think about it too much when they shared a bed, shared a tent or sleeping bag, or dark corner either. It just was what it was, felt good, and god willing, maybe it’s something Bucky remembers too.

He feels fabric rustling against his arm, and when he looks up he sees the girl from earlier checking his thermos. “Did you want more?” She asks in that same voice. He likes how it contradicts itself, bright, bubbly and edged, on the verge of a withheld remark.

"Yes, please," He says without thinking too hard.

"Give me a couple of minutes, alright? I’ve got to grab the bags from my purse."

"I don’t mean to put you out of your own stock, it’s okay, how about the company instead?"

She looks at him with a little surprise as she sits in the chair next to his, “Yeah, I can do that. It’s Steve right?”

The idea that someone that has the ability to be in the vicinity of Bucky doesn’t know who he is a little off-putting, if he’s honest. He’s so used to being so public and known that anonymity is strange.

"I mean, I know your name is Steve, but I can call you that, right?" She fumbles ahead, nervously and bumbling. "Thor calls you that. Well, when he’s not being all weird-formal." She opens her mouth wide for a second, catching a wisp of breath, "I’m Darcy. I came with Jane, who came with Thor."

"They thought Thor might know of some way to get —"

"Get Barnes a little less off the rocker?" Darcy finishes, and yes, that’s exactly what Steve’s afraid of. That whatever is left after decades of abuse and violence, isn’t going to be Bucky anymore. Steve will love the man, but it would be easier if there was some magic that could just restore him. "I think he’s still in there." she curls her legs up into the chair, folding her legs under her body and shifting her weight to get comfortable.

"Thor or Bucky?" Steve laughs, short and desperate, desolate with grief and hope together.

"Both of them?" Her voice goes higher, "I got in there for a few minutes to get something to Thor since Jane got distracted by some shiny science things. They were talking and Barnes didn’t see as agitated as everyone told me to expect." She wrinkles her nose, "Could use a haircut, though. Real cute, which now that I think through my last few sentences, makes me feel really shallow and without compassion."

"Thor has that effect on people." Steve replies, but hope flourishes there.

"You just want to talk to him." Darcy agrees. They sit beside each other, and it’s comfortable, she doesn’t try to press the conversation where he doesn’t want to go, but then asks, "Did you want me to sneak in, check on him for you?"

"Yes, please." His voice snaps a little, and Darcy gets a pleased look on her face, likes she’s figure it all out. What Bucky has been to him, what Steve wants him to be still, maybe even how Peggy filled his heart too.

"I think it’s stupid they won’t let you in, but I’m really good at butting in where I’m not wanted, I’ll keep you in the loop." She starts untangling her legs and pulling her phone out from a pocket. "What’s your number, I’ll try to snag a picture if you want too."

Darcy is perfect, he decides, and he can feel his heart starting to shift around again, wanting to make room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> strycnosa prompted: If you're still doing the FNP, I'll throw this out - Steve/Darcy/Bucky - "Tea, Earl Grey, Hot." 
> 
> This….is not the Picard prompt you were probably looking for. I’m sorry. Also, I am not sure if this is strictly a prompt or the start of something. Shit like that happens sometimes. Pre-Bucky/Darcy/Steve. 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	200. clint/darcy, wingfic

The jet is toast. The parachutes are nowhere to be found, because someone, somewhere, failed at their checklists. Clint’s leveled out the jet the best he can, keep it from a freefall, but it’s not going to last them much longer, and Darcy’s real quiet, watching the ground rising up to meet them.

"Darcy, I —" Clint chokes off, he always knew that the last moments would include something he regrets and he ditches the pilots seat.

"How far do you trust me?" Darcy says in resignation, but she’s hauling herself and puts her arm around him. He’s too weak in his legs to really do much. "Stupid question." she grouses and suddenly picks up speed, kicking open the emergency exit, still holding Clint up, but now it’s like he weighs nothing.

The plane must have hit the ground, because the sight he sees is nothing short of delirium otherwise. Darcy jumps and the sky is spread out below him and then he’s hovering. The ground isn’t getting closer, there’s less of the wind against his face and the jet is careening, tilting down past them.

And above them, Darcy is bright and gold in the sunlight, the features he can make out are impassive, collected and shifted to a parody of a human face. Something spreads out from her back, but no, where would Darcy get hold of something like Sam’s wings?

They flap, organic and long, like an albatross, coasting against the blue sky as they make a long leisurely descent to the ground.

She’s not human but she is safety, and in Darcy’s arms, he’ll trust safety as far as the sky can reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Um, can I ask for wing!fic? I don't know if you do wing!fic or not, but maybe? Thank you! 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	201. bucky/darcy/steve, pumpkin spice

"I don’t understand why this is such a big deal," Steve says, turning Darcy’s to-go cup a quarter turn to read the order "Pumpkin doesn’t actually taste like very much. Wouldn’t pumpkin flavored coffee just be thicker brew?"

"What? no, it’s great, try some!" Darcy says, passing over her cup, "It’s still a little bit too hot."

Steve’s used to coffee being either too hot or too cold, so it really doesn’t matter, and he takes a sip. It’s sweet, with a little bit of spice, and it tastes less of pumpkin as is does the cake Bucky’s mother would make in the colder months. “Spice cake.”

Darcy raises her eyebrow, “Whatever you say, sweetheart, it’s pumpkin flavor.”

"So, the seasonings in a pumpkin pie." He says, "Cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice? That’s what it is, not pumpkin."

"Pendant," Darcy says fondly, and takes his hand underneath the table. "Spice cake is terrible, though."

Steve takes a page from Darcy’s arsenal and rolls his eyes, “You never had Bucky’s mother’s. I think I’d line up to help wash up so I could get the first piece.”

"Yeah, but I bet she would have given you the first piece anyways."

"Probably," but it’s still a memory he likes to hold onto. When mothers were alive, and yeah, there wasn’t enough, but there was some to go around. More than across the hall at the one-bedroom apartment he and his ma lived in. "You think we could take one to him?"

Darcy stills, “Did you want me to check? Or you just want to surprise him and the doctors and just walk in and hand him one?”

Darcy is a girl after his own heart; responsible, but willful against responsibility and more interested in the right thing than the profitable or easy thing. And they haven’t addressed it yet, but it’s the elephant that slowly gains solidity in their relationship, that Bucky is always going to be something a little more than trusted, best friend. When Buck’s better, when they can sort out the feelings in all three directions, they’ll work something out.

Steve smiles at her, “I like the latter. Surprises are much more fun for the staff, don’t you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: Steve and/or Bucky (I would love OT3 with Darcy!) and all the freaking Pumpkin Spice that suddenly hits the markets in the fall. 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	202. darcy/steve, afraid of thunder

There are things Darcy wants to tell her youngest. Wants to tell her about watching the sky crack open in a torrential storm and a man who fell out of lightning, about walking in places no human has gone for a millennium, and falling in and out of existence in a blink. They are things she has done and seen in her life. Stories her older children love to hear, love to think of their mother as a hero, just like daddy.

But right now, her stories are no comfort to Emmie, and her screams every time the thunder rolls through are enough to make Darcy cry. This is the hardest part about being left behind for weeks on end, the crying and the scream as her daughter screams for daddy. She had to go and fall for a soldier, just like her own mother warned her against.

Her mother did stop warning her against soldiers when she realized Darcy’s army boyfriend was Captain America. Presumably, he wouldn’t marry a girl just for a better chance at a promotion.

But he still had to leave, and always does at the worst times. So she ends up half the night with the squirmy blue-eyed girlchild/hellion in her arms, and tells her stories she won’t understand yet, that will make the storm less frightening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon prompted: I was wondering if you could do a Darcy/Steve Kid!fic where their child is scared of thunder/lightening? 
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	203. Darcy/Sam, bookstore

“You look a little lost.”

Darcy’s only a little startled by the sudden voice, so she manages to hold onto her small pile of books, but only barely.

“Oh, I’m sorry, You just look like the world slipped out from underneath you,” the man she turns to face is hot. Tall, deep eyes and smooth black skin. Hot. Hotter than the kind of guy that would normally bug Darcy in the middle of a Barnes and Noble. “But I’m pretty sure that the board games did very little to upset you.”

“Well,” and this just slips out of Darcy’s mouth because hot guys make her nervous. She has a tendency to jump headfirst, “They do exist and that’s the problem. When did Barnes and Noble become a nerd haven?”

“I’m pretty sure book stores have always been a nerd haven. I think that is the purpose of a bookstore.”

“I meant, pop culture type nerd stuff, not your normal dead russian authors and obscure poetry nerdishness. I just passed a table where they were handing out Doctor Who pins and I’m standing in front of a board game extravaganza and I think they might have taken out history books to make a Game of Thrones display.” Darcy gonna commit this man to memory, the way she looks at him, because the way her mouth is already slipping into rant mode, means she’s gonna scare him off in seconds.

Then, a miracle happen. The man grins and laughs, right up and through his eyes. Not the polite tittering that she’s used to when this happens, but sincere, “Girl, you just want to take a romp through the Peloponnesian Wars don’t you?”

“Who needs fantasy power plays when history has better ones?” Darcy smiles back, ducking her head and taking a chance, “I’m Darcy.”

“Sam. You wanna go hit up a library and see what they got in the 938’s, maybe get some coffee?”

Okay, yeah, Darcy totally does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rolodexthoughts prompted: Sam/Darcy ( I can't remember if you ship them if not bucky/darcy) in a bookstore sharing fav books. 
> 
> HI I HEAR YOU’D LIKE A SAM/DARCY MEET CUTE
> 
> You can follow and prompt me at  my tumblr


	204. Clint & Kate, people-watching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bluroux prompted: Think you could write something for Clint and Kate going out for coffee and people-watching?

“Did you just fall on a car?” Kate asks, calling Clint over. She’s supposed to be meeting America soon, but she texted to say she was running really late, so Kate guesses the scruff ball would be an adequate replacement.

“Again. I think the question you wanted to ask was if I fell on a car again.” Clint says, stretching his back. The coffee Kate meant for her date is getting cold, so she pushes it toward, “The answer is yes, I did and I have a question for you.”

“Go for it, Barton.” Kate answers.

“Do you have any painkillers?” Clint’s back cracks with menace and he winces. Kate laughs and digs through her purse. She’s practically an Avenger, so of course she has painkillers. Clint downs the pills with a long slug of coffee.

“Was it worth it? Falling on a car?” Kate asks, curious to know the circumstances around this particular defenestration.

Clint holds up a finger, slumping in the chair, and pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his face a bit. A few seconds later, there is quite the commotion from the building that Clint had recently vacated. Several armed, vaguely uniformed and menacing men pour out from the front and side entrances, yelling loudly and converging together. From around several corners scream police sirens and a dozen or so cars meet the men at the sidewalk. They lay down their weapons after a short period of bewilderment.

“Seems to have worked,” Clint says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr


	205. darcy/steve, dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> therudeandruthless prompted: I lurve Darcy and Steve, would love more where he's not some shy virgin. Hey, maybe they could learn how to dance together? Then try out the moves horizontally?

“I don’t understand how you are so terrible at this.” Darcy really shouldn’t have asked Steve to dance. It was a dare, a dare she shouldn’t have taken at all. Because when Steve said he couldn’t dance, he actually meant it. Not even an attempt at a middle school clutch and sway was working all that well, “You’ve got finesse in everything else in your life. I watch you going down the hallway and you have a graceful, totally manly butt shimmy! Why does it not make an appearance on the dance floor?”

“Wait, you asking me to dance was a dare?” Steve answers and damn, if he doesn’t blush and get a little, shit, he’s getting offended, “A little joke?”

And Darcy knows the way this looks, because it looks really bad, because hey, she’s a girl that developed c-cups in grade school and the “boy who wants to dance with you” thing was totally done to her at least three times. Granted, her situation was more “wants to grope” than “be the butt of a joke” but yeah, this looks bad, “Oh god Steve no, not like that. It was a dare because…” Go big or go home Lewis, gird your loins. He’s embarrassed so maybe she should be too, “Because I watch your butt in the hallway, like all the time and practically everyone has noticed, and I have this massive crush on you and…”

Steve kisses her. And it’s nothing like how he dances. This is the skill and finesse that she’s come to expect from him. Finally, it seems like his feet get with the program, and he shifts his weight with a lot of promise. Darcy locks her fingers behind his head, barely mindful that they are in a crowded room with a lot of people watching them, and opens her mouth wider into the kiss.

Steve’s the first to remember something called propriety, and the ease goes out of his stance again, just as quick as it came along. But what promise those moments held.

“You don’t like being on display, that’s what it’s about, isn’t it?” Darcy says, quieter, “You really aren’t a public attention sort of guy, even if you are somewhat impulsive. Dancing like this is terribly public.”

There’s a mischievous lilt in Steve’s gaze, “I’m a bit better at dancing when it’s in private.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to test that later.” Darcy responds, “But I think we’ve made a spectacle of ourselves enough for right now, wanna help a girl get a drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr


	206. Clint, 4-h

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guineapigwithaflamethrower prompted: Farmboy!Clint being adorable with the little 4-Hers at the county fair?

Of all the public appearances that Clint’s had to make in the past year or so, this is probably the only one that has made him feel comfortable. Iowa had probably laid claim to him for the first time in his life. He doesn’t think they noticed very much when he fell off the foster system’s roll beyond a perfunctory investigation.

He’d looked his last set of foster parents up a dozen years back. They’d collected support checks on Barney and himself for an entire year after they’d made a run for it. Figured about right, that they’d existed as shells while Clint was working to bust himself out of one.

Natasha scoffed at the request when he got it, “Clint, they want you to judge a hog contest. That’s not who you are.”

But it is who he is. The foster parents before the last had lived on a small parcel of land. They’d owned the fields the enveloped them just a few years back, but had sold it. Without kids of their own, it seemed better to get their money’s worth out of the land, take care of the animals that remained and garden enough to put up over winter and give to friends as gifts.

It had been nice, if too brief, before a heart attack claimed Ms Palmer, and her husband was too caught up in grief to care for them anymore. There’s no use thinking about the what if’s anymore, his life has gone the way it’s gone, but it’s a good memory.

Judging hogs for a 4-H competition is exactly the sort of person Clint wants to be, and he heads to Iowa happily. He thinks Steve kind of understands that the gulf between who you are and who you are perceived to be sometimes needs a bridge to bring them together and encouraged him to go have fun.

The sights and sounds of the fair are familiar enough to be comforting, and not familiar enough to put him on guard and paranoid. The kids are great, and he’s still astounded that he’s recognized outside of the uniform, much less that there’s 8 year olds running around with plastic replica bows.

He doesn’t know much about hogs, of course, but that’s not really the point of it all. Instead he gets to hang out with the kids, get his feet muddy on the fairgrounds. He does a quick demonstration and a mob of the under 4-foot set surrounds him and he gives a little lesson and a dozen kids let arrows fly into and around a row of neat hay bales.

Clint had answered, “Nat, it’s good clean air and good clean dirt, what’s not to love?”

He awards a gold ribbon to a monster of pig and a girl with her muddy hair put up in a fussy bow, and it’s the best day he’s had in years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr


	207. Clint/Darcy, i can fix that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nemhaine42 prompted: OMG RED ALERT FARMBOY CLINT x DARCY. Like they're in a safe house or something stuff needs fixing and Darcy gets Clint to do it. You ever see the movie 'Holes'? Like when she's all "the door doesn't hang straight *bats eyelashes*" and he's like "yeah I can fix dat *smoulder*" and then later she's "aww I have sads" and he's "yeah I can fix dat *kissies*" BUT NOT THE BIT WHERE HE DIES OK. This is less a prompt and more hysterical screeching. Goodnight.

"Gracious, you’re a sight," Darcy says to the man on her doorstep. He’s covered near head to toe in caked in dirt, and it’s hard to figure out if she knows the guy. He looks familiar, like she should know him.

He leans back and over, shakes some of the dirt out of her hair. “You’re Darcy right? Jane’s Darcy?”

Darcy’s wariness rises up and she tries to keep her face impassive, but when her eyebrows scrunch together, the man continues.

"Thor’s Darcy?" He ventures again and continues when Darcy raises her eyebrows, "Look, I’m a friend and I need a place to lie low for a couple of weeks while the dust settles. He was the only one I could get a hold of, which is remarkably strange considering that it’s Thor, and he suggested I come here."

"It’s planting season," Darcy says. She hadn’t wanted to get mixed up with the farm, but she always ends up coming back here, "And I don’t know who you are."

"Clint Barton, ma’am. Hawkeye?" He grins, "And I’m great at tractors."

"You’re gonna be great at tracking in a mess, that’s what you are," Darcy steps to the side, letting him in.

She directs him to the bathroom in the guestroom with a towel, and sets a pair of sweatpants and a faded t-shirt on the bed. He’s not much of a size to her father — he was more the vine than the green bean — but it should fit well enough. She sends a quick text to Jane, just to make sure that this guy really is Hawkeye. Hot men do just randomly fall out of the sky, but not usually at the farm. The men that show up at the door are generally more of the hard-earned lines day-worker types.

Jane replies back, suitably cryptic but encouraging. The guy is legit. Darcy has an Avenger in the farmhouse guest bathroom. That’s a thing Darcy didn’t expect.

She hears the show turn on, and something nags at her brain. Something is wrong with the shower, but it doesn’t really register until Darcy hears a pop and a crash. Darcy rushes to the bathroom and quickly averts her eyes. Clint is trying to turn off the water with a foot and holding the shower head in both heads, “I can fix this,” he says, water dripping off of him, and Darcy really thanks the circumstances in her life that have lead to the large amount of hot men just showing up in her life.

“By the way, the shower head is loose, and dad hasn’t had a chance to screw it back on,” Darcy says as Clint gets the water off. She resists the urge to really take a good look at the naked man in her house. But she’s got ethics and morals and all that shit.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

* * *

It turns out that Clint actually is good at tractors, which is a godsend. Darcy can manage the workers just fine, make sure everyone is fed with about eight thousand calories per minute, just like her mother did every year, and not have to climb on farm equipment.

“How’d you end up here anyways?” Clint asks during one of the breaks, taking off a baseball cap to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, “Why aren’t you with Jane?”

“Why are you here?” Darcy asks in retaliation, but notices the way Clint bites his lip and looks off, “My aunt’s in hospice. My parents asked if I could keep an eye on the operation for them since it’s planting and all. Everything’s gotta go just so. Jane’s in good hands for a couple of weeks. I can deal with the guys and a few broken doors.”

Clint focuses on Darcy, “You got broken doors?”

“Machine shed, the back of the house,” Darcy screws her faces around as she tries to remember, and Clint’s got the start of a smile on an otherwise serious face, “storage shed. The big ones are off their tracks and the house needs a new lock. I was going to try to get them done for the folks.”

“I can do that,” Clint rushes to say, “Since I’m putting you out and all.”

“Thank you, but you aren’t really — friend of Thor’s is probably a friend of mine. Most likely. He does have a couple of really big blind spots. You aren’t a blind spot, are you Clint?” 

Clint puts back on his hat, tips the brim, “No ma’am.”

The doors are fixed before supper, and Darcy feeds Clint the last helping of mashed potatoes, and his fingers linger against her arm as she clears the bowl off of the table. His fingers are warm and strong.

* * *

“Where’d you learn to do all this, Avenger Hawkeye?” Darcy teases at the end of a long night. She’s pulled out the fire pit, relishing the time after the workers have left for the day and before she has to go to bed to get ready for the beginning of another long day.

“I…have a place? a farm?” He replies, “I haven’t planted much in the past couple of years, but I bought land awhile back. I would have gone there, but….”

“So you were a badass secret agent and country boy?” she asks, giving Clint the distraction he was begging for. He doesn’t want to tell her what’s going on. But she can guess that it’s nothing good.

“I’m a pretty badass country boy too,” Clint laughs and moves over to sit beside her. He’s a warm, comforting weight next to her, and she can’t get the knowledge of what he looks like naked out of her head. “But I bought the place so I’d have somewhere to go to. And yet, I ended up here, hoping I don’t overstay my welcome.”

Darcy closes the sparse gap between them, “Well, we could fix that welcome,” and Clint gets the hint, and puts his arm around her shoulders.

“We can do that,” Clint says, quiet and dirty. The heat from his mouth on hers warms her as much as the fire roaring in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr


	208. Clint/Coulson, late for a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zarhooie prompted: But what if farm boy Clint spent too much time in the back field shooting archery and didn't get his chores done in time, so he was late to his date with ____?

The twang and thwap of the bowstring and arrows hitting hay bales is comforting enough that Clint doesn’t register the passing of time until it is solidly dark. It’s when he hits his target just a touch out of his narrow margin of error that he shakes and blinks out of his trance-like state and realizes that the day has gone away from him yet again.

Clint chuckles to himself, packing up his gear to head back to the farmhouse. If Phil catches him out like this, he’d have his ear for the entire night about punctuality and — oh shit, Phil. That’s tonight, that’s probably right now, and Clint is out without his phone so he can’t tell if Phil has been waiting, running late, nothing.

He doesn’t grow too much on the farm, not yet. Not after just a few months of giving up on trying to keep ahead of the hero game. He’s still strong, still has better days ahead of him, but age has a funny way of catching up on you at the wrong time. And he’s got plans to stay alive for very important reasons. And Kate’s got the right attitude for a Hawkeye, can carry the name and authority issues down for the next generation.

He doesn’t grow too much, but he does have to dodge the vines and shoots of squash and pumpkins, and the corn gets in his way as he runs. It’s good that no one is here to watch him get taken down by a cornstalk.

Phil’s leaning against his car, fiddling with his phone when Clint finally emerges, dirty and sweaty from the field. Shit, he looks good. Still handsome, of course, even after all the years of heavy responsibility.

Phil looks him over, “I’d heard that you bought the farm, but not that you’d bring it with your where ever you go.”

"Just was keeping in practice," Clint says, adding a cheeky and unnecessary, "sir."

"None of that anymore, Clint," Phil has a kind smile when he’s honest, "You might as well let me in, you should get cleaned up. I’ll move the reservation."

Well, at least he’s not bailing. There’s still a chance that Clint won’t mess this up too badly, and it feels like less when Phil’s hand comes to rest on Clint’s back while he fiddles with the lock on the door.

Retirement looks better these days, almost as exhilarating as the alternative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr


	209. Clint/Darcy, Barton Farms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> athenrys prompted: AU- Darcy somehow ends up answering an ad for an assistant for Barton Farms, an independent farm which produces artisan food specializing in honey and merino wool, because of college loans. What the ad didn't day was how gorgeous and funny the owner was. Plus he keeps telling her "as you wish."

Darcy’s not sure how to take this job interview. It seems to be going decently well, considering the girl interviewing her is maybe a year out of high school, and keeps looking off into the distance at her friends out working with the livestock. She’d introduced herself as Kate and that she was the community outreach specialist for Barton Farms, a trussed up title if Darcy ever heard of one.

All Darcy wants is a job that gives her a couple of hours after she’s done with classes and on the weekends. Beer and iTunes money, and getting outside seems like a grand idea as well. It’s just supposed to be working the farmers markets. Darcy can make change and smile and she is a good cook when she has access to such things as a kitchen.

Anyways, Kate’s practically a child and yet when she says, “Yeah, sure you’ll work. Come one, you should meet Barton.”

Okay, every time she’s heard people talking about Barton Farms in town, they made it sound like it was one of those small looking farms that’s secretly owned by Con-Agra. But there’s actually a Barton. And what a Barton he is. Darcy’s never had the hots for her boss before, but her boss has never had arms quite like his either.

“Darcy, I’m glad you’re around,” He tells her one Saturday morning as she’s stacking up jars of their honey for the fifth time, “It’s good for bees-ness.”

God help her, she finds his sense of humor endearing. Her crush has been building on ridiculous since the day she started.

She’s been around about two months when she blows off a gen ed required class, one of many that she’s put off until her senior year, to ride next to him in a pickup truck traveling to a Healthy Living Fair put on by one of the local community colleges.

“I’m glad you were able to come, Darce,” He started shortening her name a couple of weeks ago and it still makes her heart skip. Clint says her name differently than how he teases Kate with a multitude of nicknames, she thinks, and he smiles at her crookedly.

“It seems like it could be a good time,” Darcy doesn’t add that she had to bribe Kate with letting her know where the super secret hideout that the farmhands use when they are trying to get away was so that she could spend time alone with her boss. Because she’s a hopeless case, “Even if it’s a long ride.”

“It’s nice to have the company, especially if it’s you. I like you” Clint says, and then pales. It’s almost funny how he tries to backtrack, “Shit, I mean, shit. I was gonna…”

“Well, I am a good employee,” Darcy decides to give him some grace, at least because he’s amusing her.

“No, I mean. Fuck, Kate said I should just…I should have waited until after we were done today so this wouldn’t be so awkward,” he babbles before he clears his throat, “I like you, Darce. In a way that a boss shouldn’t like an employee. And if this is a problem, I won’t do anything to act on it. It’ll pass.”

“What if I want you to act on it?” Darcy says quietly.

Clint veers the pickup onto the shoulder of the country road and puts the truck into park, “What did you say?”

“I’d be okay if you wanted to act on it,” she bites her lip, “And not in a skeevy way?”

“I totally respect you as an equal,” Clint says.

Darcy unbuckles her seat belt and kisses him. They don’t miss the fair, but it’s a very near thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr


	210. Clint/Darcy, hideaway farm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy/Clint on his hideaway farm.  
> ~ missmeggo929

“Used to be more stars out, I think,” Clint pulls Darcy closer to him, tightening his grip, and she settles easily against his chest. “Couple of the farms sold their land a couple of years ago. They’ve started to build up.”

The night is still and quiet, and Darcy wards off the chill by snuggling closer to Clint, “I’ve had my fill of stars, babe. New Mexico was full of them.”

“Still a nice night.” Clint pouts, which just makes Darcy laugh a little, “We should make it out here more often.”

“You tell the bad guys to stop being evil then. Then we can make our way out here every weekend. Maybe you could actually grow something,” Darcy says.

Clint kisses the top of her head and revels in the relative quiet of the world around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr


	211. darcy/steve, bots are bros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon prompted: So in my head-canon, Darcy and the bots are bros.  
> I’d love a scene where Steve walks in on Darcy, Jarvis, Dummy and You having a rocking dance party.

Tony had said, pop on down to the shop, I fixed a few things on your shield and your favorite, you just need to grab them. Just pick them up, anytime, I gave you full access for the day.

That’s all that Tony said Steve needed to do.

“I am sorry Captain Rogers, I cannot allow you into the lab at this time.” JARVIS states again. It’s about the fifth time Steve has tried to enter the workshop. The doors will not budge.

“Yeah, you said that, did Tony mention that I was coming down?” Steve says, beginning to lose his patience. Losing his patience with a disembodied voice and a computer program.

“He did sir.”

“Then why can I not come in, JARVIS?”

JARVIS remain silent. Steve’s only got one more option, one he hates using because if he uses the override code, then it means that he’s got to go to all that trouble of having someone get him whatever new one Tony devises. But he uses it anyways, because if a call goes out, he’d rather have his things with him than locked down in the workshop. This time, the override code is the chemical makeup of caffeine. Next time will likely be a logic puzzle if the pattern holds; Steve’s okay with that, he’s always been good with those.

The music is loud and uproarious, and Steve wonders if Tony snuck back in even though he is supposedly at a shareholders meeting and indisposed by order of Pepper Potts. But no, the music is loud but not the so called classic rock Tony prefers. Steve can’t call it classic rock without laughing a little in his head. It’s all new to him.

“Now put your hands up!” A woman’s voice sings along to the music, “DUM-E, no, you’ve got to go up, like this!” Steve peers around to see a brunette, familiar only from briefings he’s read, physically take the robots arm where she wants it to go, “Your hand goes like this,” she flips her hand back and forth until DUM-E imitates the motion, “You are never going to win Miss Robot USA if you don’t practice.”

“Um….” Steve unexpectedly says and he’s having trouble figuring out exactly why someone that is not Tony, not Pepper or Rhodey or even Happy is in Tony’s workshop. But what the hell, sometimes when you deal with Tony, you’ve just got to go along for the ride. “Hello?”

The woman looks up from tending to DUM-E, “Oh shit. I was never here. Dad hates it when I corrupt the bots, and he will never let me back in if he catches me teaching Single Ladies to them. Never here, Captain Rogers.”

There are several things that go through his head. Dad. The bots. That she knows who he is with just a glance, but after everything, that last one isn’t a big deal. It’s the first he’s having trouble with. Dad. “It’d be easier to know you were never here if I knew your name. That way if people ask, I could say so.”

“Darcy Lewis. I came up here with Thor and Jane. Tony’s my —“ She seems to catch on to what she’s saying, absently stroking the workings of DUM-E, “He’s my dad. I don’t think you know that. I don’t think anyone but Pepper and probably Rhodey knows that. Surprise!” She lifts both hands up and waves them, her fingers waggling.

She’s a pretty thing, he thinks, and he’s curious to know — well, know so many things, but the only think that comes out is, “Single Ladies dance?”

Darcy grins, “Play it again JARVIS! From the top! And this time DUM-E, try and be a little more coordinated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me at  my tumblr

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Selections from twistedingenue's Friday Night Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/915089) by [einzwitterion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/einzwitterion/pseuds/einzwitterion)




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